“Miranda opened her eyes in time to see the sunrise. A wash of violent color, pink and streaks of brilliant orange, the container ships on the horizon suspended between the blaze of the sky and the water aflame, the seascape bleeding into confused visions of Station Eleven, its extravagant sunsets the its indigo sea. The lights of the fleet fading into morning, the ocean burning into sky.”
“Miranda opened her eyes in time to see the sunrise. A wash of violent color, pink and streaks of brilliant orange, the container ships on the horizon suspended between the blaze of the sky and the water aflame, the seascape bleeding into confused visions of Station Eleven, its extravagant sunsets the its indigo sea. The lights of the fleet fading into morning, the ocean burning into sky.”
Emily St. John Mandel
“Of course,” the cabbie said, “you don’t know where you’re going unless you know where you’re going.”
Emily St. John Mandel“The wren goes to't”
Emily St. John Mandel“She knows there are traps everywhere that can make her cry, she knows the way she dies a little every time someone asks her for change and she doesn't give it to them means that she's too soft for this world or perhaps just for this city, she feels so small here.”
Emily St. John Mandel“To survive is not enough. To simply exist... is not enough!' - Roga Danar”
Emily St. John Mandel“People want what was best about the world.”
Emily St. John Mandel“The more we know about the former world, the better we’ll understand what happened when it fell.”
Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven“She works on her never-ending project for hours at a time. In art school they talked about day jobs in tones of horror. She never would have imagined that her day job would be the calmest and least cluttered part of her life.”
Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven“If you write literary fiction that’s set partly in the future, you’re apparently a sci-fi writer ... I think of it as being more of a story about what remains after we lose everything and the importance of art in our lives.”
Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven“The king stood in a pool of blue light, unmoored.”
Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven“Miranda opened her eyes in time to see the sunrise. A wash of violent color, pink and streaks of brilliant orange, the container ships on the horizon suspended between the blaze of the sky and the water aflame, the seascape bleeding into confused visions of Station Eleven, its extravagant sunsets the its indigo sea. The lights of the fleet fading into morning, the ocean burning into sky.”
Emily St. John Mandel, Station ElevenAll in One Creative & Marketing Platform to tell stories at scale
