The World We Make (Great Cities #2)

by N.K. Jemisin

Thus does the Queen of Queens reclaim her throne—only to belatedly realize somebody stole her aloe plant. Fucking city. She loves it so much.

He spreads his hands to feel the gentle waft of warm, funky-smelling subway air along his skin. (No one pays attention when he does this, because few people bother paying attention to odd behavior in New York, and he wouldn’t care if they did, because few New Yorkers care what other people think.)

It’s always refreshing to meet a young person who has a good head on his shoulders and a clear vision of the way the world needs to go. They aren’t always right, but they do make things so very interesting, and frequently better. God willing, those better days will come soon.

Mayoral campaigns are slow-moving explosions, gathering force and energy until some critical mass is reached and the whole thing fusionbursts into victory—or fizzles into dust.

Every court is a horror movie setting at its core, where property matters more than human lives and justice gets measured in billable hours.

first rule of both politics and rap is always assume the mic is hot),

The wolf cannot help but love a full belly.

“It’s not out of control,” Queens says, annoyed. “It’s just wild. Life runs on chaos math. It’s supposed to be varied and hard to predict—and yes, dangerous.