Nobility and self-sacrifice sound wonderful in theory, but now he’s seen how it feels. A dead hero is still dead at the end of the day, and you’re still alone.

Ann Aguirre


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Just . . . love me, and let tomorrow look after itself.

Ann Aguirre


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Men always want to be remembered whereas women realize that requires being dead.

Ann Aguirre


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No matter how interminable something feels, there is always, always an ending. Sometimes that's good, and sometimes it's bad; sometimes it's a matter of indifference, and sometimes it's heartbreaking, and your life is never the same thereafter.

Ann Aguirre


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Does changing for the better absolve you of all the wicked shit you did before?
No. March fills my head like a warm glow. Instead you receive the twin delights of guilt and regret.

Ann Aguirre

Mots clés conscience



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I'll always want him. Until every sun goes dark in every sky, until I am nothing more than long-forgotten cosmic dust, I will want him. And even then I suspect my particles will long for his.

Ann Aguirre

Mots clés love desire



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Time is fluid, so the moments where everything feels perfect pass in a wink, and those where you're on your knees in despair drag on like the death of a thousand cuts.

Ann Aguirre


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There’s always room in the heart for others, too.

Ann Aguirre


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His face held a certain impassivity; you see it in all waiters and valets. They might want to jam a knife through your left eye socket, but you'd never know it from their expression. Working retail, I've acquired a similar look myself.

Ann Aguirre

Mots clés customer-service retail waiter



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Mother Mary of Anabolic Grace, we got Teras incoming?” He levels angry blue eyes on me. “You’re a hex, lady, dark luck, powerful bad juju, ken?”
“Only to people who try to kidnap me,” I tell him sweetly, and March snorts, so I feel obliged to add, “Or rescue me…” And then Dina makes a pfft sound. “Or who travel with me…” My gaze sweeps around the darkened interior, trying to find an ally, but nobody will hold my eyes more than two seconds, it seems. “Fine, frag you all, I’m dark juju, bad luck, and you’re all doomed.

Ann Aguirre

Mots clés luck bad-luck doomed



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