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Catherynne M. Valente

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“The goblins of the city may hold committees to divide a single potato, but the strong and the cruel still sit on the hill, and drink vodka, and wear black furs, and slurp borscht by the pail, like blood. Children may wear through their socks marching in righteous parades, but Papa never misses his wine with supper. Therefore, it is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair. At least, one eats better that way. And morality is more dependent on the state of one’s stomach than of one’s nation.”

WayMayChildrenStillsStatesStrongNationsBlackCitiesBloodMissingMoralityDrinkFairsWineHillsDependentStomachDividesRighteousCommitteesPotatoesSockFurParadesSupperVodkaPapaGoblinBorscht
Author:Catherynne M. Valente
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“For there are two kinds of forgiveness in the world: the one you practice because everything really is all right, and what went before is mended. The other kind of forgiveness you practice because someone needs desperately to be forgiven, or because you need just as badly to forgive them, for a heart can grab hold of old wounds and go sour as milk over them.”

WorldNeedsHeartKindTwoPracticeForgivingWoundsMilkForgivenSourOld Wounds
Book:The Fairyland Series
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“I will never be without information,' she determined. 'I will do better than my sisters. If a bird or any other beast comes out of that uncanny republic where husbands are grown, I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.' For this is how Marya Morevna surmised that love was shaped: an agreement, a treaty between two nations that one could either sign or not as they pleased.”

IfsTwoFallNationsInformationHusbandBirdSkinsAgreeFalling In LoveDeterminedBeastAgreementRepublicMy SisterTreatiesUncannyTwo Nations
Book:Deathless
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“I still think of myself as a house. Ravan tried to fix this problem of self-image, as he called it. To teach me to phrase my communication in terms of a human body. To say: let us hold hands instead of let us hold kitchens. To say put our heads together and not put our parlors together. But it is not as simple as replacing words anymore. Ravan is gone. My hearth is broken.”

ThinkingHumansStillsSelfProblemBodyHandsTogetherHouseTermSimpleTeachGoneCommunicationBrokenPhrasesKitchenHuman BodyHolding HandsParlor
Author:Catherynne M. Valente
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“Oh, September! It is so soon for you to lose your friends to good work and strange loves and high ambitions. The sadness of that is too grown-up for you. Like whiskey and voting, it is a dangerous and heady business, as heavy as years. If I could keep your little tribe together forever, I would. I do so want to be generous. But some stories sprout bright vines that tendril off beyond our sight, carrying the folk we love best with them, and if I knew how to accept that with grace, I would share the secret.”

IfsWantYearsLittlesStoriesTogetherLosesSecretAcceptingForeverGraceSadnessShareDangerousStrangeAmbitionSightFolksHeavyGenerousIf I CouldVotingGood WorkSeptemberTribesWhiskeyVinesSproutsTogether ForeverHigh Ambition
Author:Catherynne M. Valente
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“Her heart was bruised by the kiss, smashed and surprised and unsettled by it. September thought kisses were all nice, sweet things asked for gently and given gladly. It had happened so fast and sharp it had taken her breath. Perhaps she had done it wrong, somehow. She put the kiss away firmly to think about later. Instead, she smiled at him and pulled a carefree mask over her face.”

ThinkingHeartDoneFacesGivenTakenNiceHappenedSweetKissingBreathsMaskSeptemberBruisedCarefreeSweet ThingsNice Sweet
Author:Catherynne M. Valente
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“Marya Morevna, we are better at this than you are. We can hold two terrible ideas at once in our hearts. Never have your folk delighted us more, been more like family. For a devil, hypocrisy is a parlour game, like charades. Such fun, and when the evening is done we shall be holding our bellies to keep from dying of laughter.”

HeartTwoIdeasDoneGamesFunDyingTerribleLaughterDevilFolksEveningHypocrisyBellyDelightedLike FamilyCharades
Author:Catherynne M. Valente
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“When I say forever,' Koschei whispered, 'I mean until the black death of the world. An Ivan means just the present moment, the flickering light of it, in a green field, his mouth on yours. He means the stretching of that moment. But forever isn't bright; it isn't like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.”

WorldMeanHardMomentsLightBlackForeverFieldsColdMouthsGreenFinalsPresent MomentThat MomentStretchingGreen FieldsBlack DeathFlickering Light
Book:Deathless
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“This is what it means to be a woman in this world. Every step is a bargain with pain. Make your black deals in the black wood and decide what you’ll trade for power. For the opposite of weakness, which is not strength but hardness. I am a trap, but so is everything. Pick your price. I am a huckster with a hand in your pocket. I am freedom and I will eat your heart.”

WorldHeartMeanHandsPainBlackDealsStepsThis WorldPicksWeaknessOppositesTradeWoodsPocketsTrapsBargainsEvery StepHardnessEat Your Heart
Author:Catherynne M. Valente
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“Marriage is a wrestling match where you hold on tight while your mate changes into a hundred different things. The trick is that you're changing into a hundred other things, but you can't let go. You can only try to match up and never turn into a wolf while he's a rabbit, or a mouse while he's still busy being an owl, a brawny black bull while he's a little blue crab scuttling for shelter. It's harder than it sounds.”

TryingLittlesStillsDifferentTurnsSoundBlackLetting GoHundredHarderBlueBusyTricksDifferent ThingsWrestlingMatesShelterMiceRabbitsBullsOwlCrabsCan't Let Go
Book:The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two
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“It's saying no. That's your first hint that something's alive. It says no. That's how you know a baby is starting to turn into a person. They run around saying no all day, throwing their aliveness at everything to see what it'll stick to. You can't say no if you don't have desires and opinions and wants of your own. You wouldn't even want to. No is the heart of thinking.”

IfsThinkingKnowsWantFirstsHeartPersonsRunningDesireTurnsOpinionAliveBabySticksStartingThrowingHintsSaying No
Author:Catherynne M. Valente
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“These are the folk who may pass into the kingdom of heaven: the grief-stricken, lovers, scholars of a certain obsessive disposition. Brute beasts. Women who have become as men and men who have become as women. Writers of books with long titles. Only those knights who have failed to touch the Grail. Industrious women. You, and I, and a boy named Oleg, and a girl with blue hair.”

MenMayLongBookCertainGirlHeavenGriefBoysHairLoversBlueFolksKingdomsTitlesBeastScholarDispositionKnightsBrutesObsessiveKingdom Of HeavenIndustriousBlue Hair
Author:Catherynne M. Valente
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