The Time Traveler’s Wife

“I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches of sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space. ”

from The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger pg. 284


The Great Gatsby

“Through this twilight universe of Daisy began to move again keeping half a dozen dates a day with half a dozen men and drowsing asleep at dawn with the beads chiffon of an evening dress tangled among dying orchids on the floor beside her bed. And all the time something within her was crying for a decision. She wanted her life shaped now, immediately- and the decision must be made by some force- of love, of money, of unquestionable practicality- that was close at hand.”

from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald pg. 130 

The Book Thief

“She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Liesel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on his lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like the regret in the shadows of trees and in the glow of the anarchist’s suit collection.  She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled herself away, she touched his mouth with her fingers. Her hands were trembling, her lips were fleshy, and she leaned in once more, this time losing control and misjudging it. Their teeth collided on the demolished world of Himmel Street.”

from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak pg. 536

The Book Thief

“He was the crazy one who had painted himself black and defeated the world.

She was the book thief without the words.

Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like rain.”

from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak pg. 80

The Blind Assassin

“Not enough rain, say the farmers. The cicadas pierce the air with their searing one-note calls; dust eddies across the roads; from the weedy patches at the verges, grasshoppers whir. The leaves of the maple hang from their branches like limp gloves; on the sidewalk my shadow crackles.”

from The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood pg. 83

The Blind Assassin

“A hot wind was blowing around my head, the strands of my hair lifting and swirling in it, like ink spilled in water.”

from The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood pg. 1


“The air smelled sharp as new-cut wood, slicing low and sly around the angles of buildings.”

from Chocolat by Joanne Harris pg. 172