“Now the flesh arranges itself differently. I'm a cloud, congealed around a center object, the shape of a pear, which is hard… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“What's your name?" I ask him. We're standing in front of my door. He stops suprised. Lifts his chin almost imperecmptly. Focuses… — Tahereh Mafi Copy Share Image
“And that - he pointed ahead - is the road to Hell. That's where we're going. I have always heard it was… — Cassandra Clare Copy Share Image
