She knew herself, how she had slowly, over years, become a cat, a wolf, a snake, anything but a girl. How she had wrung out her girlhood like death. - Catherynne M. Valente
How poor you are, September. You make my heart groan. I know about Homesickness. It begins with H. What will you do? - Catherynne M. Valente
The great blessing and great cruelty of youth is that there seems to be time enough. - Catherynne M. Valente
Monsters almost always are culture's way of working out their fears. - Catherynne M. Valente