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384 pages, Hardcover
First published April 21, 2020
“Many babies have killed, but it is very rare that the victim is not their mother.”
“Sometimes all your words are the wrong shape and none of them will fit into the silence left when the conversation pauses.”
“People get like that if they live long enough to turn grey. They think they’ve seen it all and have answers for everyone. But they’re so distant from living life that they forget that we all have different paths.”
“We are victims of our first friendships. They are the foundations of us. Each anchors us to our past. The blows that drive those nails home are randomly struck, but they echo down all our days even so.”
“’Stay calm,’ Petrick hissed as he followed the others. ‘The demons find their way in most easily when you’re angry. Any flaw can be exploited: cruelty, jealousy, hate. But anger’s the hardest to avoid.’”
“There's a darkness in each of us, afraid to show itself, wrestling with such blunt tools as words and deeds to make itself known to the darkness in another person similarly hidden behind walls of camouflage, disguise, interpretation. Honesty is a knife that we can use to pare away those layers, but one slip, go too deep, and who knows what injuries might be inflicted … The wounds an honest tongue can open sometimes take a lifetime to heal.”
“It’s what you do with time that makes it matter. I’d rather spend a year making new memories than a thousand wandering around in the same old ones.”
“We are victims of our first friendships. They are the foundations of us. Each anchors us to our past. The blows that drive those nails home are randomly struck, but they echo down all our days even so.”
"Many babies have killed, but it is very rare that the victim is not their mother. When the father handed his infant to the priestess to speak its fortune the child stopped screaming and in its place she began to howl, filling the silence left behind. Omens are difficult and open to interpretation, but if the orcale that touches your newborn dies moments later, frothing at the mouth, it is hard even with a mother's love to think it a good sign."
And above it all with the frozen light bleeding all around it, some great dark... thing, a creature as large as the sky, like a hand but not, a creature of spindly legs reaching out to encompass the world, supporting a knotted body the colour of venom and despair.
“Many babies have killed, but it is very rare that the victim is not their mother.”
“We are the unwanted, the things of such little use that they are thrown away. We are what is beyond repair. We are the Broken.”
“Did beauty need an observer to matter? Was anything beautiful without someone to think it so?”
“…it’s better to die trying for a life we can take for ourselves than to die fighting each other in the dark for an existence we were condemned to.”
“It’s a dangerous game to try to rid yourself of weakness. You never know what else you might lose in the deal.”
“She understood that she wasn’t the selfish voice, or the kind one—she was the sum of a multitude, normally joined so close the seams didn’t show, but liable to fall apart under stress. Everyone was. A mix, a recipe, the sum of their parts and more.”