The Boy on the Bridge (The Girl With All the Gifts, #2)

by M.R. Carey

“Your authority ends at my skin,”

digressions and distractions are usually there for a reason, and can yield unexpected insights.

now he learned the pleasure of stories which is like no other pleasure—the experience of slipping sideways into another world and living there for as long as you want to.

each day has a shape and the waking-up ritual is one of its load-bearing components.

Perfect truth is black and white and it doesn’t know our names.

It seems appropriate that emotions should have recoil in the same way guns do, because after all they’re just as dangerous.

The tang of disinfectant, her profession’s holy incense,

Sanity is a suspended state, moored in nothing but itself.

A dead tree can stand for years or decades as it hollows out. A seed has places to be and things to do.