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He might have been stapled to my soul—and I might have felt like I belonged in this void—but a ton of this still broke my brain to think about.
Many of my notes are taken because I find something comical. Or curious. Sometimes it’s the way Brandon weaves the words together. & sometimes it’s because he said something so profound, I need a second to chew on it.
a delver in embryo.
A part of my soul echoed with the cry of pain he’d made
He settled back against my soul, like a person leaning back in a chair, and pondered on that.
That wasn’t a particularly Jorgenesque way of doing things.
He looks so old, Gran-Gran. I’ll try not to be offended by the sorrow in that thought, Gran-Gran said.
Being old isn’t that bad. Except for your body, your eyesight, your sense of balance, and waking up each morning feeling like you’ve been nailed in place.
Made me wish my skeleton stuck out in a few places for a similar effect.
Hesho’s dramatics are superior
Scud, I wished I could get away with something that awesome.
Not sure how the men in my life would respond to their voice being described as “faintly masculine”.
Ideas had their own weight with Jorgen. Words had substance.
My heart bled for him, knowing that all of this was on his shoulders.
“You, are a lone reed” -Frank Navasky
An empire all built on the tiny backs of enslaved cytonic creatures.
“I’m not bending,” he said. “I’m just…feeling the weight of it.
At the end of the story…at the end of the story, the hero came home, and found herself transformed…into someone who didn’t belong, and could never belong, with the people she’d left behind. It was the same in almost every story I’d read.
I was barely listening. Fifteen-centimeter-tall. Furry. Ninjas. Scud. The universe was awesome after all.
To pretend I have an easy answer would be to mock your very real worries.”
The disembodied AI had more emotional fluency these days than I did.
he was the human embodiment of bedhead. If the stretch you give after sitting too long had a personality, that would be Nedd.
He didn’t really have a mustache. He had a lip comb-over.
He had a…disarming sense of buffoonery.
“don’t smile so much. She’s trying to brood. You’re ruining the moment.”
It’s like someone glued a rat to your face, then ripped it off really quickly, leaving a few hairs behind! It’s like you shaved off a real mustache, but missed a few spots.
“The mustache doesn’t deserve subtlety, Nedd,” she said. “It deserves a mercy killing.”
As a herald of the changing days, mysteriously linked to the woman’s body in particular.
a blue ball of legend and myth, cradle of life and stories.
I still wasn’t going to bring a baby sling into battle. I was bringing a slug holster.
I was getting the feeling that she was the slug equivalent of an introvert.
The result of one former AI’s emotional constipation.
Why is this precisely how I felt when painting the bathroom?
It’s okay to be sad sometimes, M-Bot said to Chet. It’s part of being alive.
“You never visit,” she said. “Grandmothers always say that sort of thing. As if we don’t have legs, and can’t just go visit on our own. So I decided to.”
“What’s a chihuwhatever?” Oh! It’s a kind of dog, M-Bot said. A little one that is also very big inside! Like me!
“Gran-Gran, you’re the most stubborn little ball of fire I know.
“No one obeys better than those who obey their own conscience.”
What you experience is yours to cherish. Each sight a gemstone for your personal collection, light crystallized in your mind, made solid and captured to forever cherish.”
I highly recommend that if you’re going to get a copilot, you pick up a warrior poet.
I nodded to Alanik, who smiled back and even winked. I assumed that might mean the same sort of thing to her species as it did to mine.
We can be a team, Spensa. Or I can just spend the rest of my life covering for you.”
I don’t think most people want to do what’s right. That’s what makes doing the right thing noble. It’s a conscious choice. A hard one. If it were easy, then why would we respect it so much?”
I get to see everything, take it all in for once. Maybe understand it, rather than being afraid of it.”
she had a uniquely Nightshade way of phrasing things,
Hesho reminds me of Uncle Iro
“As the ocean waves are disturbed by constant turmoil, so is the life of one who lives to the full.”
Like the dark of the moon, which can never show its face to the light, and never know the kiss of the dawn.”
He saw the rules like I saw the stories Gran-Gran told. As a way to make sense of the world, and life, and…
I never tire of these gerbil fox quips
I sense a reverence to your actions. This place is special to you.”
I want to see people like Hesho does.
