Home > Work > The Butterfly Garden (The Collector, #1)
61 " She didn’t know that I’d sat on a black-and-red painted horse and finally understood that my parents didn’t love me, or at least didn’t love me nearly enough. "
― Dot Hutchison , The Butterfly Garden (The Collector, #1)
62 " That’s life, right?” “No,” Victor says quietly. “It isn’t. Or at least it shouldn’t be.” “But that’s not the same thing. Is and shouldn’t are entirely different things. "
63 " Well, pregnant, I guess. Being too pregnant is a bit like being too dead; it’s not really a flexible state. "
64 " Hope has flown away in a night, or in a day, or in none, is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. "
65 " Well, no, but it keeps him from doing it again.” “So would his death, and without the sensationalism and tax money. "
66 " Even when she seems forthcoming, her answers almost always veer sideways, providing something like substance without giving away the heart. "
67 " you don’t get to decide for all those other girls that no one’s missing them. "
68 " It was like he translated his thoughts into music so they could make sense. "
69 " but kids like me? We’re not lost. We may be the only ones who never are. We always know exactly where we are and where we can go. And where we can’t. "
70 " Beauty loses its meaning when you’re surrounded by too much of it. “So, "
71 " Cowardice may be our natural state but it’s still a choice. "
72 " No, I’m engaging in a discussion about perspective and moral relativity. "
73 " My secrets are old friends; I would feel like a poor friend if I abandoned them now "
74 " Beauty loses its meaning when you’re "
75 " One of the nice things about New York was that no one ever asked questions. It’s just one of those places people go to, you know? It’s a dream, it’s a goal, it’s a place you can disappear amidst millions of other people doing the same thing. No one cares where you came from or why you left because they’re too focused on themselves and what they want and where they’re going. "
76 " I'm sorry."What an asinine thing to say, under the circumstances. I shook my head. "I'm just sorry you ever came here."Another sideways look, somewhere in between hurt and amused."Completely sorry?" he asked after a minute. I studied his face in the moonlight. Twice he's helped me through panic attacks, even if he only knew about one. He was fragile in a way his father and brother weren't, someone who wanted to be good, do good, and just didn't know how. "No," I said eventually. "Not completely." Not if I could figure out some way to lead him to usefulness. "You're a very complicated person.""And you're a complication. "
77 " symbols onto the surface of the stainless steel table. Her eyes are half-closed, deep shadows bruising the skin beneath, and her black hair is dull and unwashed, scraped back into a messy knot. She’s exhausted, clearly. But he wouldn’t call her traumatized. Sipping his coffee, FBI Special Agent Victor Hanoverian studies the girl and waits for his team members to arrive. At least his partner, anyway. The third core member of their team is at the hospital "
78 " fuck "
79 " Part of a book,” the girl corrects. “It’s ‘The Little Match Girl’ by Hans Christian Andersen. "
80 " So a rose by any other name isn’t still a rose?” “That’s language, not identity. Who you are isn’t a name but it is a history, and I need to know yours. "