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Kindle Notes & Highlights
No dirt anywhere else except the tiny blush of ejecta on the carpet where he died,
One empty cubby, no indication of what it held. Maybe it was open: a place for the unexpected.
there’s something in her eyes like gunpowder and white alcohol.
a hundred tiny mechanical hands and empty silver eyes like a bead of mercury.
Life after death, unevenly distributed.
The sun sets behind the mountains, snatches the day away and puts it to bed.
Everything in the city looks towards Chersenesos, one way or another.
Victor looks like your auntie if your auntie wore a vintage catsuit in burgundy velvet, accessorised with a domino mask.
Vic uncoils off the copper top like she’s made of plastic, smiling wide enough to swallow an entire cat.
“I’m getting dressed,” Musgrave says. “But when you die, I hope they let me cut you open.”
Gone like butterflies in winter.
The rage of the Titan king was endless and deep, but even the lightning cannot strike what is not there.”
Money is a weight on the fabric of the world.
