“I still couldn’t banish the image of the Quetzal Flower. In my mind, it merged with that of Priestess Eleuia: everything a man could desire or aspire to, a woman who would suck the marrow from your bones and still… — Aliette de Bodard Copy Share Image
“I still couldn’t banish the image of the Quetzal Flower. In my mind, it merged with that of Priestess Eleuia: everything a man could… — Aliette de Bodard Copy Share Image
“you feel like a field of sugar canes after the harvest—burnt out, all cutting edges with no sweetness left inside.” — Aliette de Bodard Copy Share Image
“a man of no religion, who dares use pain as a weapon, tainting it for mundane things” — Aliette de Bodard Copy Share Image
“You leave behind your fine poems. You leave behind your beautiful flowers. And the earth that was only leant to you. You ascend into… — Aliette de Bodard Copy Share Image
