Every morning is a battle between the superego and the id, and I am a mere foot soldier with mud and a… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
You can't have whatever you want. But to a child who must ask permission for every single thing, adulthood looks like a… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Just about every science whiz can tell you how he or she took apart the TV or the radio when they were… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
It seems like every few years a big name author will holler something about how evil, heinous, and morally wrong fan fiction… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Every writing teacher I ever had except for one told me I was an awful writer, had no idea what I was… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
I try to hurt myself, to sprain something, writing every novel and story, because I'm stretching for something new and difficult that… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
Everyone has a right to cry uncle on a genre every once in awhile. I've done it myself. Sometimes you just can't… — 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
