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"Death. It was something I had to think about once. Weird, right? Strange that death was ever an inevitable end, but it wasn't anymore. Not really. I eluded it. Tricked it. It was an odd concept-the world aged, moved forward, yet I . . . didn't."
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"That man has reached immortality who is disturbed by nothing material."
"Please, please, help me grow to be like them, the ones'll soon be here, who never grow old, can't die, that's what they say, can't die, no matter what, or maybe they died a long time ago but Cecy calls, and Mother and Father call, and Grandmere who only whispers, and now they're coming and I'm nothing, not like them who pass through walls and live in trees or live underneath until seventeen-year rains flood them up and out, and the ones who run in packs, let me be the one! If they live forever, why not me?"
"The battle with the gods thus hinges on our own mortality! Creativity is a yearning for immortality."
"Hmph. Yes. Him. He had the nerve to turn down our offer of immortality and tell us to pay better attention to our children. Er, no offense. "Oh, how could I take offense? Please, go on ignoring me."
"Immortality is really desirable, I guess. In terms of images, anyway."
"If 10 years from now, when you are doing something quick and dirty, you suddenly visualize that I am looking over your shoulders and say to yourself: 'Dijkstra would not have liked this', well that would be enough immortality for me."
"And now the measure of my song is done: The work has reached its end; the book is mine, None shall unwrite these words: nor angry Jove, Nor war, nor fire, nor flood, Nor venomous time that eats our lives away. Then let that morning come, as come it will, When this disguise I carry shall be no more, And all the treacherous years of life undone, And yet my name shall rise to heavenly music, The deathless music of the circling stars. As long as Rome is the Eternal City These lines shall echo from the lips of men, As long as poetry speaks truth on earth, That immortality is mine to wear."
"As the Self [Pure Soul], one never dies; it is only the beliefs that die."
Explore more quotes by Laura Kreitzer
"I tapped around on my new Miracle Phone-a gift from Joseph-as I listened to the discussion about our next move. I wasn't trying to be rude, but I'd recently become addicted to this one game on my Miracle Phone. Really, I was listening. I could multitask like no other. Trust me, there's an app for that."
"Summer turns and marches away, fed up with being handled like a child. Like she's a glass doll that might break at any minute. She hasn't been a child since the day she was whipped into muteness. Anxiety might strangle her sometimes, but she's not some baby needing to be coddled."
"Dreams deny her the freedom she truly seeks. Darkness consumes. Leg muscles burn. She runs away, even while lost in the paradise of sleep. Gravity is a crushing force bearing down on her chest, shattering wings and refusing her flight. A whisper in her mind. You don't belong here."
"Her thoughts pulsated through him, frantic, desperate, pleading for him to stay behind.'I won't-can't, he murmured. 'If you're going, so am I.She exhaled a laborious sigh and flung her arms around his neck; her warm breath fanned over his skin as she tightened her grip. 'If you die, Andrew, I'll track you across multiple dimensions just to say I warned you, she cautioned, voice tender."
"It's okay. I'm-'Fine? Joseph chimed in. 'Obviously not. You need to be checked out by a doctor. 'I am a doctor. I rolled my eyes at him, but that didn't deter him from his train of thought. 'Not that kind of doctor.'What is 'that kind of doctor' going to say when they see my shimmering pink blood, Joseph? I changed my voice to mimic one of a concerned doctor. 'I'm sorry ma'am, you appear to be suffering from a mild case of Pretty Pretty Princess syndrome. Have you ingested any magical woodland faeries recently?"
"She draws back, yet refuses to lose skin contact. Golden light flickers across his face. He is the night, the stars. His soul shines so brightly, she could pour it into a jar, and it'd be as bright as the sun."
"A glacial chill rushes through Gage. He whips around just in time to see arms clutch Summer around the middle and drag her into the dark. Panic seizes him, and he takes off after her, regardless of the chaos brewing behind him. Her cry of surprise echoes all around them, drilling into his bones."
"The aftermath of bearing shackles is an exquisite devastation, fraught with the ravages of survival. Even though one is no longer held captive-be that from a person, a government, or one's inner self-the scars are deeply engraved into one's psyche, and there's no remedy for the soul. Many have the misconception that freedom equals happiness forever and ever.That's a wicked delusion."
"I blinked at him just casually talking about my new sex life with his genie-shiny head, and I knew at any second I would break into hysterics."
"We want to fight.'And I want J.K. Rowling to keep writing in the Potterverse, but I know that's never going to happen, I said blithely."
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