More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
We now play a permanent game of I-am-crazier-and-scarier-than-you. And in that game, my mother is our secret weapon.
For decades, she has been careful about people and monsters trying to kill her. Since the attacks, she’s finally found them.
One day soon, the things I stuff in there will burst out and infect the rest of me.
Some of the bodies are so still I can’t tell if they’re alive. He nods appreciatively as though he sees something he likes. I let myself have an internal tongue-lashing when I realize I’m pleased by his approval.
That calls for a witty comeback. ‘Whatever,’ I say.
‘How good is your hearing?’ ‘What?’ ‘Ha ha,’
‘Angels are violent creatures.’
Your giant head is getting too big for this forest.
‘Anybody who ties you to a chair at gunpoint is a bad guy. Do I really need to explain this?’
‘By throwing crazy at crazy?’
When you’re small enough to have to look up at everyone around you, there’s no such thing as a dirty fight.
she’s trapped in a cage in Hell surrounded by monsters.
‘Where are we?’ Raffe asks from the shadows behind me. ‘In Hell,’
He kisses me with the desperation of a dying man who believes the magic of eternal life is in this kiss.
I’d always found kissing nice and pleasant, like smelling roses or laughter on a summer day.
They are balls of crimson shot through with white, like miniature lightning bolts sizzling over blood.
a stunning array of celestial bodies in a seemingly choreographed air ballet. If Michelangelo had seen this in daylight with the sun streaming down from the glass dome, he’d have fallen to his knees and painted ’til he was blind.
Here and there, plumes of dark smoke reach into the sky like the fingers of a drowning man reaching up for the last time.
‘Because, Miss Nosy, I am agnostic.’
I’ve found an agnostic angel.
My tears drip down her cheeks, mixing our anguish together.
the humans look at him as though they are seeing the devil himself.
Here is the devil, walking out of flames, carrying her dead daughter in its arms.
Raffe kneels down and places me on the asphalt. He lifts my hair to one side and lets it run through his fingers as it slowly cascades over my shoulder.
He was delivering my body to my people.
Instead, he delivered me to my family.
this attack was not about winning over the angels. It was about winning over the humans.
I never thought about it before, but I’m proud to be human. We’re ever so flawed. We’re frail, confused, violent, and we struggle with so many issues. But all in all, I’m proud to be a Daughter of Man.
Leave it to Mom to be simultaneously frightening and soothing, as only an insane mother can be.
