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101 " You are working up to Mr. Fantastic Fiction levels of Zombie Expert, which is like playing Guitar Hero on some level that actually melts the guitar controller, burning your fingers with searing hot plastic till you scream in pain. Only with words. And zombies. "
― Libba Bray
102 " You deny our vows. You deny my rights. You abuse my pride and leave me nothing of yourself. You send me from you on some lackey's strength. You betray me at every turn." Shanna met his glare and hurled a fierce reply. " You took my heart and set your fingers firm around it, then, no doubt delighted at your success, you rent it with unfaithfulness." " Unfaithfulness is only from a husband. You play the same to me and yet do say I am no spouse." " You plead you are my husband true and spite the suitors come to woo me." " Yea!" Ruark raged. " Your suitors flock about your skirts in heated lust, and you yield them more than me." Shanna paused before him, rage etched upon her face. " You're a churlish cad!" " They fondle you boldly and you set not their hands away from you." " A knavish blackguard!" " You are a married woman!" " I am a widow!" " You are my wife!" Ruark shouted to be heard over the rising wind outside. "
103 " I was drinking in the surroundings: air so crisp you could snap it with your fingers and greens in every lush shade imaginable offset by autumnal flashes of red and yellow. "
― Wendy Delsol , Stork (Stork, #1)
104 " When you write, it’s like braiding your hair. Taking a handful of coarse unruly strands and attempting to bring them unity. Your fingers have still not perfected the task. Some of the braids are long, others are short. Some are thick, others are thin. Some are heavy. Others are light. Like the diverse women of your family. Those whose fables and metaphors, whose similes and soliloquies, whose diction and je ne sais quoi daily slip into your survival soup, by way of their fingers. "
― Edwidge Danticat , Krik? Krak!
