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Kindle Notes & Highlights
She wasn’t beautiful. She looked like an angry walnut.
I did chuckle
Book characters were dangerously attractive in the safest way. You didn’t even know what they looked like, but you knew you liked it.
Reading a book was like meeting someone for the first time. You don’t know if you will love them or hate them enough to learn every detail, or skim the surface never to know their depths.
Hope without tragedy was hollow.
Villainous characters had epic highs, epic lows, and epic loves. The Emperor loved like an apocalypse. In real life, people let you go. That was why people longed for the love from stories, love that felt more real than real love.
Hope without tragedy was hollow. So was tragedy without hope.
Is truth stone, or is it water? If enough people walk through a world in their imaginations, a path forms. What’s reality, except something that really affects us? If enough people believe in something, doesn’t it become real?”
People invent truth the same way they do everything else: together.”
Finding a favourite character was discovering a soul made of words that spoke to your own.
In a story, you were allowed to be wracked by feelings too terrible for reality to hold. If Rae showed how furious she felt, she would lose the few people she had left.
This is so real. Sometimes, reading about a character even just reacting to something in the way you wish you could react to whatever is happening in your own life is like a form of release. You get that feeling out and work through it under a different name, in a completely different scenerio, and with none of the consequences. Reading really is therapy
“Why are you doing this?” Rae demanded. There was a serious note in the woman’s voice. “For love.”
potentially important
At the bottom were peasants, who grew food and carried away garbage. Society would collapse without them, so they were treated horribly.
