The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

by V.E. Schwab

What is a person, if not the marks they leave behind? She has learned to step between the thorny weeds, but there are some cuts that cannot be avoided—a memory, a photograph, a name.

No, Adeline has decided she would rather be a tree, like Estele. If she must grow roots, she would rather be left to flourish wild instead of pruned, would rather stand alone, allowed to grow beneath the open sky. Better that than firewood, cut down just to burn in someone else’s hearth.

Stories are a way to preserve one’s self. To be remembered. And to forget.

Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.

“I am not some genie, bound to your whim.” He pushes off the tree. “Nor am I some petty forest spirit, content with granting favors for mortal trinkets. I am stronger than your god and older than your devil. I am the darkness between stars, and the roots beneath the earth. I am promise, and potential, and when it comes to playing games, I divine the rules, I set the pieces, and I choose when to play. And tonight, I say no.”

MY NAME IS MAXIMUS DECIMU-

There is a defiance in being a dreamer.

He shakes his head. “You were just in here yesterday.” “I wasn’t—” “I remember you.”

BROTHER WHAT

He was supposed to come, that was the nature of their dance. She did not want him there, has never wanted it, but she expected it, he has made her expect it.

BECAUSE HE WAS CURSING HENRY THIS NIGHT TOO edit: he was not

He may be a sun, but she is a shining comet, dragging their focus like burning meteors in her wake.

Because for the first time in months, in years, in his whole life, perhaps, Henry doesn’t feel cursed at all. For the first time, he feels seen.

They are Orpheus, she is Eurydice, and every time they turn back, she is ruined.

ORPEHUS AND EURYDUCE MENTIONED

Love is hungry. Love is selfish.”

Love is patient love is kind :(