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Quote by Lily Brooks-Dalton

“The dream clung to her. Her sleep had been full of Jupiter ever since the survey last week: that overwhelming, unstoppable girth; the swirling patterns of the atmosphere, dark belts and light stripes rolling in circular rivers of ammonia crystal clouds; every shade of orange in the spectrum, from soft, sand-coloured regions to vivid streams of molten vermilion; the breathtaking speed of a ten-hour orbit, whipping around and around the planet like a spinning top; the opaque surface, simmering and roaring in century-old tempests. And the moons! The ancient, pockmarked skin of Callisto and the icy crust of Ganymede. The rusty cracks of Europa’s subterranean oceans. The volcanoes of Io, magma fireworks leaping up from the surface.”

Quote by Lily Brooks-Dalton

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Good Morning, Midnight

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Lily Brooks-Dalton

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“Jupiter instead cooled down below the threshold for fusion, but it maintained enough heat and mass and pressure to cram atoms very close together, to the point they stop behaving like the atoms we recognize on earth. Inside Jupiter, they enter a limbo of possibility between chemical and nuclear reactions, where planet-sized diamonds and oily hydrogen metal seem plausible.”

“And is your room alright?" "Y-yes, of course!" She stammered. "At least it was when I left it. I swear." Jupiter looked at her for a moment, his brows knotted in confusion. Then he closed his eyes and laughed as though she'd said something achingly funny. "No—no, I meant...I meant do you like it? Is it alright...for you?" "Oh." Morrigan felt her cheeks turn warm. "Yes, it's lovely. Thank you." Jupiter had the good grace to wipe away the last of his grin. "It's uh,.. it's a bit boring, I know, but it's only just met you. You'll get acquainted. Things will change " "Oh." Said Morrigan again. She had no idea what he meant. "okay.”

“My life is an extraordinary journey. It takes me into many rooms in which I wear many coats of many colours. Underneath and beyond all these is myself as I am. I speak many words and sing many songs to help others find their own voice and path. But the music is always the same: embrace yourself, embrace life itself.”

“Then the wooden benches along the walls, where so many outcasts had slept, would be lit by a sort of slow, clocked lightning til the bulb steadied and fastened its tiny feral fury upon the center of the room like a single sullen and manic eye. To burn on there with a steady hate. Til morning wearied and dimmed it away to nothing more than some sort of little old lost gray child of a district-station moon, all its hatred spent.”