“How did you know,“ Summer would demand, and then decide: “It’s probably a coincidence.” “It’s not a coincidence,” Bird would say. “It’s just obvious. Your body just knows.” “But how do you know?” “How do you know a story is a good story or not?” asked Bird. “Like that. You know like that.” I just picked this up yesterday with the intention of just reading a page or two before going back to the book I was already reading, and I read several chapters and have been thinking about it every since. The prose is just gorgeous!
“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat. “I don’t much care where – ” said Alice. “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat. ” – so long as I get somewhere,” Alice added as an explanation. “Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.”
“At last, she lifted up the waiting mask. So many of the faces that hung around the stall were lovely, delicate things made of feather and lace and garnished with glass. But this one was beautiful in a different way, an opposite way. It reminded Lila less of dresses and finery, and more of sharpened knives and ships on the seas at night. It looked dangerous. She brought it to rest against her face and smile.” — V. E. Schwab, A Darker Shade of Magic
“I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn’t already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race-that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.” ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief