Tithe (Modern Faerie Tales, #1)

by Holly Black

The kelpie circled the wooden thing, snuffling appraisingly. “More, I think. Crippled things are always more beautiful. It’s the flaw that brings out beauty.”

You can break a thing, but you cannot always guide it afterward into the shape you want.

The twilight holds as many truths as the dawn, perhaps more, since they are less easily perceived.

Corny took a cautious bite of the fruit. It tasted of fullness, of longing and wishful thinking and want, so that one bite left him empty.

“Cut me and I weep tears as red as my flesh, yet my heart is made of stone. Pray tell, mortal girl, what am I?”