Hey! My body may be small, but my soul is large. It’s why I wear platforms. So I can reach the top of my soul.

She had been innocent once, a little girl playing with feathers on the floor of a devil's lair. She wasn't innocent now, but she didn't know what to do about it. This was her life: magic and shame and secrets and teeth and a deep, nagging hollow at the center of herself where something was most certainly missing.

An idea fell like a seed and over the next weeks it went on growing like a fig vine lush and conquering twining round her old beliefs and covering them in new growth until they were as invisible as a tiger in a thicket and just as deadly.

I think with world building, it's important to create a sense of culture even if it is just a fantasy, and the best way to do that is to look at a real human culture and see what makes it cohesive.

...the air seeming to gather around her like held breath. As if this whole place were a story about her.

It was Kizzy's first kiss and maybe it was her last and it was delicious.

A wave of weariness took him. How could life be so unrelentingly ugly?