Indexing (Indexing, #1)

by Seanan McGuire

Clichés are relatives of the fairy tale, and tropes aren’t bad; they go with the territory.

We can’t stop them, and we can’t get rid of them. I’m sure they serve some purpose—very little happens without a reason—but it’s hard to focus on that when you’re facing a major beanstalk incident in Detroit, or a gingerbread condo development in San Francisco.

That’s the second, and most important, thing you need to know about fairy tales: once a story starts, it won’t stop on its own. There’s too much narrative weight behind a moving story, and it wants to happen too badly. It won’t stop, unless somebody stops it.

Too many years had been lost in the struggle to evade her story. Those years were never coming back, and if she felt safer in her nest of teenage rebellion and outdated angst, then no one was going to convince her that she should do anything differently.

“What just happened?” asked Jeff. “Sloane just yelled at the story until it went away,” I said blankly.

“Every good thing you find, no matter how small, is a penny for you to put in your pocket. Gather them close, and treasure them. Someday you’ll have a future where you feel rich enough, emotionally, to spend them freely.”

God I love this quote.

A truly sensible culture would grant a person a new name with every decade of their life, until age and perspective allowed them to choose the name that would grace their tombstone

YES

“She got a nosebleed,” said Sloane, reaching forward and taking my hand in hers. Her fingers left red stains on my skin. “Sure, I had to punch her four or five times to make that happen, but nosebleeds are a normal part of being a traitorous bitch who goes over to the dark side at the first sign of trouble.”

😂😂😂

Now rest my dear, and be at ease; there’s a fire in the hearth and a wind in the eaves, and the night is so dark, and the dark is so deep, and it’s time that all good little stars were asleep.