“Among the many fox magics her sobo had delighted in describing, the one that had most captured her imagination was the power to alter form. The most eldritch among foxes could turn (or so her grandmother would claim in that musical croak that was her storytelling voice) into human beings. The they would creep into the lives of lonely and impressionable souls and offer them long-sought affection.” StoriesLonelinessFoxesMetamorphosis Book:The Trees Source: The Trees
“Writing is like going underwater - thank you for being there when I come back up.” Writing Book:The Girl With Glass Feet Source: The Girl With Glass Feet
“After a long while he sat upright with great effort, exhaled a sigh and reached for a clean sheet of lined paper, smoothing it out on the desk. He unscrewed the lid of his fountain pen, laid it perpendicular to his paper, and began to write. Often he compared his writing to white water. He had only to leap in to be dragged away on its rapids, thrown this way and that with his own will rendered impotent. While writing he found the words came from the muscles in his hands, the feel of the shaft of his pen, the locked joint of his elbow. the scratching noise of the nib marking paper and, underneath all that, some coordinating impulse in his guts. Certainly not from his mind.” Writing Book:The Girl With Glass Feet Source: The Girl With Glass Feet
“Wenn du ins Fettnäpfchen getreten bist und dir jemand freundlicherweise die Hand hinstreckt, um dich da wieder rauszuholen, dann solltest du die Hilfe vielleicht annehmen, anstatt dich auch noch drin zu wälzen.” Ida Book:The Girl With Glass Feet Source: The Girl With Glass Feet
“A clock ticked somewhere in the darkness. This was the time of night when things seemed unreal, when a thought that could be dismissed in daylight might take hold of the guts and not be uprooted until morning.” NightDarknessThoughts Book:The Girl With Glass Feet Source: The Girl With Glass Feet