Guess what it is that turns plants to coal.
Pressure.
Guess what it is that turns limestone to marble.
Pressure.
Guess what it is that turns Briony's heart to stone.
Pressure.
Pressure is uncomfortable, but so are the gallows. Keep your secrets, wolfgirl. Dance your fists with Eldric's, snatch lightning from the gods. Howl at the moon, at the blood-red moon. Let your mouth be a cavern of stars.

Franny Billingsley

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You mind your tongue!”
“Oh, I do,” I said. “I sharpen it every evening on your name.

Franny Billingsley

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I've confessed to everything and I'd liked to be hanged.

Now, if you please.

Franny Billingsley

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I hated myself, but I also loved myself in a hateful way.

Franny Billingsley

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How can something as fragile as a word build the whole world?

Franny Billingsley

Mots clés inspirational-love

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I like rain and mist. I've never understood why people exclaim over bright skies and bushels of glaring sunshine.

Franny Billingsley

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It never ends, this business of being a lady.

Franny Billingsley

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Yes, I'm shallow, I don't mind admitting it. Perhaps I should admit that there's no end to the depths of my shallowness.

Franny Billingsley

Mots clés humor wit shallow

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This is what I want. I want people to take care of me. I want them to force comfort upon me. I want the soft-pillow feeling that I associate with memories of being ill when I was younger, soft pillows and fresh linens and satin-edged blankets and hot chocolate. It's not so much the comfort itself as knowing there's someone who wants to take care of you.

Franny Billingsley

Mots clés love family nostalgia childhood comfort wistful

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When we were small, Rose and I used to play a game called connect the dots. I loved it. I loved drawing a line from dot number 1 to dot number 2 and so on. Most of all, I loved the moment when the chaotic sprinkle of dots resolved itself into a picture.

That's what stories do. They connect the random dots of life into a picture. But it's all an illusion. Just try to connect the dots of life. You'll end up with a lunatic scribble.

Franny Billingsley

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