“By then there had been other men. She'd flung herself at other closed windows. The windows never broke, but her heart, at the end, was in splinters.” — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“These were wise, modern children, and they knew: a mother could be a witch, a child could be a criminal. A librarian could be… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“Because what it's come down to, after that whole messy spring, that whole tortured summer, all the time since, is this: I no longer believe I can save people. I've tried, and I've failed, and while I'm sure there are people out in the world with that particular gift, I'm not one of them. I make too much of a… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share
“He started Number the Stars before we were even out of the store. "The only problem is, I already know how it ends," he said. "Because once when I looked at it back at the library, I found out." "I do that too," I said. "It's a bad habit." "But I never mean to." He was walking, talking, and reading… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share
“So here, patient listener: your soothing epilogue. Imagine him happy. Imagine him spinning in circles... Imagine his heaven, where he can float through characters… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“And for what portion of human history had people even had desk jobs? Maybe the last four hundred years, out of four million? It… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“...all I knew were novels. It gave me pause, for a moment, that all my reference points were fiction, that all my narratives were… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“I could put a book in his hands, but I couldn't take him by the ankles and dip him headfirst in another world. And… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“On my mental instant replay, I realized that obliquely comparing his family to the Nazis was maybe not my finest moment. He was quiet… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“The whole damn century would've made more sense backwards. Where we ended is worse than where we began.” — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“But here at Laurelfield, there was something more in the mornings, a buzzing sensation about the whole house, as if it weren't the servants… — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
“Very few writers thank their mothers for keen editorial insight; I'm happy to be the exception.” — Rebecca Makkai Copy Share Image
