A poem doesn’t come out and tell you what it has to say. It circles back on itself, eating its own tail and making you guess what it means. — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
I hope you don’t mind my joining you,” said Leanne. I minded. After all, she’d tried to kill me. A girl in a novel… — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
I've confessed to everything and I's liked to be hanged. Now, if you please — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
Meaning. If you're going to die, you want to find meaning in life. You want to connect the dots. — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
You could at least complain,” I say. “I adore complaining. It calms the nerves. — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
Thoughts are strange creatures. They lead you from one thing to another. Sometimes you don’t know how you got from one to the next. — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
Guess what it is that turns plants to coal. Pressure. Guess what it is that turns limestone to marble. Pressure. Guess what it is… — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
“I was going to ask him, yes I was. “You remember Blackberry Night?” The torches were alive with yellow butterfly-flames. “I can’t forget it.”… — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
You don’t mind when he stares at you.” Cecil jerked his head toward Eldric. "He doesn’t stare,” I said. “He looks. — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
“I love you. I believe it. I believe I am lovable. How can something as fragile as a word build a whole world?” — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
People think me a sort of Florence Nightingale, but I have no heroic qualities. I simply don’t feel very much. — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
“Smash the table, why don’t you? Kick things about. It’s ever so nice to see you embrace the true spirit of the Fraternitus.” — Franny Billingsley Copy Share Image
