More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
It doesn’t matter who the demon once was—neighbor, lover, son—they don’t hesitate. They barely even mourn. The wheel turns, they say, which means: Sorry about your wife, kid.
They spoke a dead language and worshipped a dead god, a man suspended gruesomely on two sticks.
sup Jesus
Nothing grows on a grave while you’re standing on it.
We learned, after the old world died, not to put our faith in wood pulp or motherboards; the only archive that survives is the one we carry with us.
She came to us as any apocalypse does: slowly at first, and then all at once.
A leg, emerging from the trees: many jointed, plated in scales, ending in a cloven hoof. An elk’s long, sloping throat. A vixen’s skull beneath a wild crown of antlers. Moss and torn vines hung from the antlers like the veil of some mad bride. Behind the veil, her eyes gleamed a wet, arterial red.
She knew me then, at the beginning of ourselves, and she knew me now, here at the end, when she did not even know herself.
Grief ages you,
Once upon a time there was a doctor who was poisoned by radiation and became a great green-skinned giant.
is this a Bruce Banner/Hulk mention??
Why do people change, Sir John? Because they are cursed, pursued, poisoned, trapped, under siege. Because they have to.
Priests, to call them demons, and knights, to slay them.
The Bible and the gun—an old formula, well proved.
Siren, selkie, sphinx; angel, demon, mutant turtle.
An outlander doesn’t prove her love by dying young, but by living as long as she can.
