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Quote by Natasha Tsakos

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Natasha Tsakos

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“Don’t worry, this isn’t what your role in the finale is going to be. This is just for fun.” I seriously questioned their idea of a good time. Swinging from a tiny little bar more than twenty feet in the air seemed like certain death. How she managed it in beaded costumes with long trains was either a miracle or magic or both. Sebastián swung over from his side of the practice room, legs over the bar and arms extended outward, a wide grin on his face. As if he weren’t already talented enough with his contortions, now he was doing them in the sky. “Easy, see? All you have to do is let go.” “You’re all mad,” I muttered under my breath. “Absolutely mad.”

QuestionableAudrey Rose WadsworthFor Fun
Book:Escaping from Houdini
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“Vigilante justice. People debated the appropriateness of terrible individuals who did terrible things to their supposed loved ones facing retribution outside a formal system. What was fair? What did justice require? No one ever asked the victims those questions. The burden to survive rested on them while the attacker could depend on the prejudices and faults within the system and the fickle demands of society to escape culpability. Despite that, we had choices. We were sitting in a house, not operating in a courtroom with all its rules and limitations. This was real life, where the answers weren't so clear. If you felt alone and no one stepped up to help then that bright line between right and wrong could blur. Maybe that's why I would have made a terrible lawyer. From my vantage point, the law malfunctioned many times when needed and delivered harsh blows often when unnecessary.”

JusticeQuestionableVigilante Justice ThrillerVigilantism
Book:The Usual Family Mayhem
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“It is all about praising. Created to praise, his heart is a winepress destined to break, that makes for us an eternal wine. His voice never chokes with dust when words for the sacred come through. All becomes vineyard. All becomes grape, ripening in the southland of his being. Nothing, not even the rot in royal tombs, or the shadow cast by a god, gives the lie to his praising. He is ever the messenger, venturing far through the doors of the dead, bearing a bowl of fresh-picked fruit.”

PraiseOrpheusPraising
Book:Sonnets to Orpheus
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