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The problem is that it was closest to alchemical—the feeling like you’ve met the person you want to make magic with for the rest of your life.
for something that was the same as it had always been, only very slightly different.
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Just because it has not yet been imagined doesn’t have to make it less than real.”
Her life had been a constant series of escapes and she had to grow up and accept it, to live like it, like a person on the run.
“It’s hard to imagine that there’s a world where either of us exists alone.”
Beginnings and endings, stardust and stars.
Instead of a sword in her hand, she now saw an object of Gideon’s imagining: a Magic 8 Ball, which, when shaken, would give her the answer she needed to whatever question lived tirelessly inside her soul. A thought to keep her alive, to keep her armed and fighting. Whatever thought she needed that to be.
A voice spoke from the back of his mind, like something half-remembered from a dream.
We are given exactly as much time as we need to be as human as we are, and that’s it. That’s the entirety of the magic.
none of this was final, none of it was real. Nothing was over unless he said so.
Maybe someday. Not a promise. More like an offer, or a dream.
“You don’t have to give it all away today.” Parisa’s voice was low and steady in her ear. “You still have tomorrow. That has to count for something.”
And so life gave a little back.
If the human mind is good at anything—and Atlas does know the human mind—it is the projection of alternative realities, the thing that some people call regret and others call wonder. The thing that anyone who has ever looked at the stars has come to observe.
We are stardust on earth, we are impossible beings—
The relationships will be the plot, because relationships are all that matter. They’re all we can ever take with us. They’re the only real things we leave behind.
How did these three sentences alone make me cry
as in life, the lies we tell ourselves are just as important as the truth.
I hope you felt something, whether it was something new or just giving a name to the way the thing in your chest ticks, about what it beats for.
