...I said I was sorry.” “Be sorry, then. Just be sorry somewhere else.

And they were quiet but their blood and nerves and butterflies were not—they were rampantly alive, rushing and thrumming in a wild and perfect melody, matched note for note.

He was right. It made no sense at all, but the feeling flooded through Karou, and whatever it was, it was as sweet as a patch of sun on a glossy floor and, like a cat, she just wanted to curl up in it.

As long as you're alive, there's always a chance things will get better.

Beauty,’ Brimstone had scoffed once. ‘Humans are fools for it. As helpless as moths who hurl themselves at fire.

The thing is, you throw brains and souls into an animal and stir, you don’t really know what you’re going to get.

We only get to be one person; we don't even get to choose that person. By the time we get ahold of ourselves, we are pieces already in play.