When I saw him I thought I could curl up inside him and go to sleep and never wake up." "Men are… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Who are you?" "I am Death," said the creature. "I thought that was obvious." "But you're so small!" "Only because you are… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Do you know, Masha, how revelation comes? Like death. So sudden, though you knew all along it must occur. A revelation is… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Hearts set about finding other hearts the moment they are born, and between them, they weave nets so frightfully strong and tight… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
All stories must end so, with the next tale winking out of the corners of the last pages, promising more, promising moonlight… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Stories,' the green-eyed Sigrid said, unperturbed, 'are like prayers. It does not matter when you begin, or when you end, only that… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
This is what comes of having a heart, even a very small and young one. It causes no end of trouble, and… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
It is best in the end to let women see to their own vengeance. — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
I have made calculations that would beggar your soul. What is it that villains always say at the end of stories? You… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
When I saw him I thought I could curl up inside him and go to sleep and never wake up." "Men are no good… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
We all just keep moving, September. We keep moving until we stop. — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
“You couldn't ever really fix a sad story. You could only make another. And another. And another, until you found the right one at… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
“He considers it for a moment and spits out the seeds, which sprout, quickly, into tiny junkblossoms sizzling with recursive algorithms. The algorithms wriggle… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
“Truly, Mallow yearned to know everything. Curiosity was part of her, like her short blond hair and bitten fingernails.” — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
“The cicada lies in the earth for seventeen years. It is warm and dark there, it is soft and wet. Its little legs curl… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
We all live inside the terrible engine of authority, and it grinds and shrieks and burns so that no one will say: lines on… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Her heart was bruised by the kiss, smashed and surprised and unsettled by it. September thought kisses were all nice, sweet things asked for… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
“September put her hand on the grip of the Rivet Gun. She’d only just gotten it, and she’d promised to take copious notes for… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Just tell yourself a story that'll satisfy you and pretend he told it. — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
“You see, the future is a kind of stew, a soup, a vichyssoise of the present and the past. That's how you get the… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Fairy tales have always been about getting through the worst of everything, the darkest and the deepest and the bloodiest of events. They are… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
