Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (Wicked Years, #1)

by Gregory Maguire

“I’ve got an idea,” said Avaric, putting one foot this way and the other that, as if he were as flexible as a man of straw.

“Please,” said Elphaba, at once hard and soft, proud and pleading. Glinda realized she had never before witnessed Elphaba wanting anything. “Please, sir. The hardship on the Animals is more than can be borne.

“Are you associated with the Animal Relief League, or one of those defiant little humanitarian organizations?” “I never use the words humanist or humanitarian, as it seems to me that to be human is to be capable of the most heinous crimes in nature.”

I can’t course around Oz—on that broomstick there, like a storybook witch!—

If she ever comes down off that plinth—the one that has words written on it along the edges in gold, reading MOST SUPERIOR IN MORAL RECTITUDE—if she ever allows herself to be the bitch she really is, she’ll be the Bitch of the East.

“This is why you shouldn’t fall in love, it blinds you. Love is wicked distraction.”

“What in the world do you know about wickedness? You’re a bit player in this network of renegades, aren’t you? You’re a novice.” “I know this: The wickedness of men is that their power breeds stupidity and blindness,” she said. “And of women?” “Women are weaker, but their weakness is full of cunning and an equally rigid moral certainty. Since their arena is smaller, their capacity for real damage is less alarming. Though being more intimate they are the more treacherous.”

Was it an accident I saw that, Fiyero wondered, looking at the manager with new eyes. Or is it just that the world unwraps itself to you, again and again, as soon as you are ready to see it anew?

“My dearie, my poppet, I am too green to walk into a public place and do something bad. It’s all too expected. Security

“Look, we’re all here, me and Chuffrey, Crope, Nessarose, you—is Avaric around, we could get him? We could get together, we could have a quiet dinner together in our rooms upstairs. I promise not to be so giddy. Please, Fiyero, please, Your Highness. It would do me such an honor.”

No elphaba

you remember how Elphaba hated getting wet.” “She was allergic to water,” Glinda opined. “I never knew how she kept herself so clean, and I her roommate.” “Oil, I think,” said Fiyero.

“If you should see her,” said Glinda lightly, “tell her I miss her still.”

“I love you,” said Elphaba. “So that’s that then, and that’s it,” he answered her, and himself. “And I love you. So I promise to be careful.”

This was too much like her childhood, discussions with her father and Nessarose about where evil begins. As if one could ever know!

Such silly things, children—and so embarrassing—because they keep changing themselves out of shame, out of a need to be loved or something. While animals are born who they are, accept it, and that is that. They live with greater peace than people do.

“When the times are a crucible, when the air is full of crisis,” she said, “those who are the most themselves are the victims.”

would like to stay here with you,” said Elphaba. “Life has been very hard. If you can hear me when I cannot hear myself—something the Superior Maunt could never do—you could help me do no harm in this world. That’s all I want—to do no harm.”

“Oh, so you’re stopping here, are you?” said Elphie. “Yes,” he said, “with you.” “With the crows, with the monkey, with the bees, with the dog, and with the Witch?” she said. “With me?” “Where else can I go?” he asked. “I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered. “I can take care of the dog,” he said calmly. “I can collect the honey for you.” “It makes no difference to me,” she said. “All right,” he said, and so Liir prepared to enter his father’s house.