When the world changes, it stashes us away where we can't make it run the other way again.
Catherynne M. ValenteSomeone ought to write a novel about me,โ said Lebedeva loftily. โI shouldnโt care if they lied to make it more interesting, as long as they were good lies, full of kisses and daring escapes and the occasional act of barbarism. I canโt abide a poor liar.
Catherynne M. Valenteโฆeverything has a narrative, really, and if you canโt understand a story and relate to it, figure out how you fit inside it, youโre not really alive at all.
Catherynne M. ValenteIn both marriage and war you must cut up the things people say like a cake and eat only what you can stomach.
Catherynne M. ValenteWhen one is traveling, everything looks brighter and lovelier. That does not mean it IS brighter and lovelier; it just means that sweet, kindly home suffers in comparison to tarted-up foreign places with all their jewels on.
Catherynne M. ValenteChyertiโthatโs us, demons and devils, small and bigโare compulsive. We obsess. Itโs our nature. We turn on a track, around and around; we march in step; we act out the same tales, over and over, the same sets of motions, while time piles up like yarn under a wheel. We like patterns. Theyโre comforting. Sometimes little things changeโa car instead of a house, a girl not named Yelena. But itโs no different, not really. Not ever.
Catherynne M. Valente