I wonder about death, I who may never know it. It looks much like ecstacy, the way they open their mouths as they drown, the way their fingers dig into your skin. Their eyes are wide and startled and they trash in your hands as though with an excess of passion.
Holly BlackItโs just that you go so crazy being alone like that. Sometimes heโd forget my water or food and Iโd cry and cry and cry.โ She stops talking and looks out the window. โI would try to tell myself stories to pass the time. Fairy tales. Parts of books. But they got used up.
Holly BlackWe all wind up drawn to what we're afraid of, drawn to try to find a way to make ourselves safe from a thing by crawling inside of it, by loving it, by becoming it.
Holly BlackAt the end of a criminalโs life, itโs always the small mistake, the coincidence, the lark. The time we got too comfortable, the time we slipped up, the time someone aimed a little to the left. Iโve heard Grandadโs war stories a thousand times. How they finally got Mo. How Mandy almost got away. How Charlie fell. Birth to grave, we know itโll be us one day. Our tragedy is that we forget it might be someone else first.
Holly Black