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There's nothing here to say good-bye to. There's no dancing girl. No mischievous smile. She's gone, off with her sisters, broken free, escaped. And if she were here now, she would say, Go.

Lauren DeStefano

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Lauren DeStefano
Age: 40
Born: 1984
Born: October 13
Author
Novelist
Connecticut
United States
Would
Dancing
Smile
Broken
Gone
Free
Mischievous
Girl
Bye
Nothing
Escaped
Good
Sisters

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We'll squeeze every second that we can from our lives, because we're young, and we have plenty of years to grow. We'll grow until we're braver. We'll grow until our bones ache and our skin wrinkles and our hair goes white, and until our hearts decide, at last, that it's time to stop.
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Words like 'unputdownable' and 'irresistible' are simply not enough for Cat Winters's In the Shadow of Blackbirds. Days after finishing this story, it remains the first thought I have in the morning, and the thing that haunts me until I sleep.
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Give me time For you, always.
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None of the wives mention the security guards by the door, who will probably tackle us to the ground if we try to leave without our husbands.
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Good night, sweetheart, he says. Good bye, sweetheart, I say. And it's so casual, so innocent that he doesn't suspect a thing.
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Dystopian, by definition, promises a darker story.
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So many of the things I've wanted are the things I've been taught to fear.
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and I've always known it, the way I love a song I hear for the first time, even before I know all the words, the way I love my favorite color, and the way that the train would speed past my bedroom when it was very quiet and I'd feel it in my stomach rushing through me. I love you in a way that I've never felt needed to be said.
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Even things that aren't broken can be fixed.
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Maybe what frightens us about the edge isn't our fear of morality, but the thoughts it leads us to have.
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We writers are resilient souls.
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I was born into a world that was already dying I belong to it.
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You've been captive for so long that you don't even realize you want freedom anymore.
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The seeds are tiny, unborn things, and I resent them. They'll be planted and they'll grow into exactly what they're meant to be.
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Someday I'll tell you all of it, I say. I'd like that, he says. No, I say. I promise you won't.
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I'm suddenly finding it hard to know the difference between nightmares and consciousness.
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Gabriel's voice can reach me anywhere. Even in a hurricane.
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She would do anything, anything to belong to his son after a lifetime of belonging to no one at all.
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