In another time, in another place, I wonder who they might have been.

We figure out what death means when we're born, practically, and we live our whole lives in some kind of weird denial about it.

I think humans have always been desperate. I think it has always been about doing something awful if it might help, when the only other option is death. Maybe that's what being a parent is supposed to feel like.

A party in the orange grove. The pain on Linden's face is immediate. I am unwavering. He has cost me more pain than I will ever be able to repay.

Dystopian, by definition, promises a darker story.

I think, in this strange world of beautiful things, there may be some humanity after all.

She has the majesty of hurricanes and explosions.