Poetry Quotes by Catherynne M. Valente

5 Poetry quotes by Catherynne M. Valente

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“If you are a monster, stand up. If you are a monster, a trickster, a fiend, If you’ve built a steam-powered wishing machine If you have a secret, a dark past, a scheme, If you kidnap maidens or dabble in dreams Come stand by me. If you have been broken, stand up. If you have been broken, abandoned, alone If…

Catherynne M. Valente

“Robots are like Mars: they need girls. Boys won't do; the memesoup is all wrong. They stomp when they should kiss and…

Catherynne M. Valente

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Here! 'Not thread nor glue, not nails nor screws, will ever self and shadow wed.' Helpful, those poet-types. Perhaps this one: 'Seek…

Catherynne M. Valente

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“Well," the Marsh King pursed his beak politely, "at any rate, your manliness need only last for a relatively brief period. I…

Catherynne M. Valente

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“Here’s something I bet you don’t know: every time someone writes a story about a dragon a real dragon dies. Something about…

Catherynne M. Valente

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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

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We all just keep moving, September. We keep moving until we stop.

Catherynne M. Valente

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“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

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“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

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“Truly, Mallow yearned to know everything. Curiosity was part of her, like her short blond hair and bitten fingernails.”

Catherynne M. Valente

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“The cicada lies in the earth for seventeen years. It is warm and dark there, it is soft and wet. Its little legs curl underneath it, and twitch only once in a little while. What does the cicada dream when it is folded into the soil? What visions travel through it, like snow flying fast? Its dreams are lightless and…

Catherynne M. Valente

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

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Her heart was bruised by the kiss, smashed and surprised and unsettled by it. September thought kisses were all nice, sweet things asked for gently and given gladly. It had happened so fast and sharp it had taken her breath. Perhaps she had done it wrong, somehow. She put the kiss away firmly to think about later. Instead, she smiled…

Catherynne M. Valente

“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 Belinda Cabbage, which probably did not mean handing it over to the first person who asked and taking notes on what she got for it. But more than that, she wanted it with her. It had…

Catherynne M. Valente

Just tell yourself a story that'll satisfy you and pretend he told it.

Catherynne M. Valente

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“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 future: You mix up everything you did today with everything you did yesterday and all the days before and everything everyone you ever met did and anyone they ever met, too. And salt and lizard and…

Catherynne M. Valente

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

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