A dream dirty and bruised is better than no dream at all.
The thing is, you throw brains and souls into an animal and stir, you don’t really know what you’re going to get.
All right," sighed Madrigal. "To the baths, then. To make ourselves shiningly clean." Like vegetable, she thought, before they go in the stew.
Is that all souls are for? For when we die?" "No. They're for living, too.
It's all a quilt of fairy tales with a patch here and there of truth.
Everything lined up. It has been easy, as if it were meant-" "Meant!" she said, amazed. She spun to face him, which, in the crush, brought her against his chest as if they were still dancing. She fought backward for space. As if what were meant?" "You," he said. "And me.