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“It's a trick question, Aquilla. A Mask is not made. She is remade. First she is destroyed. Stripped down to the trembling child that lives at her core. It doesn't matter how strong she thinks she is. Blackcliff diminishes, humiliates, and humbles her." "But if she survives, she is reborn. She rises from the shadow world of failure and despair so that she might become as fearful as that which destroyed her. So that she might know darkness and use it as her scim and shield in her mission to serve the Empire.”
Sabaa Tahir“Exhaustion is temporary. Pain is temporary. But Helene dying because I didn't find a way to get her back on time—that's permanent.”
Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes“Rage colors her every movement. Rage that has nothing to do with her so-called bodyguards and everything to do with me and her and the confusion rolling around inside the both of us. This should be interesting”
Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes“All women are not Helen, I know that, but have Helen in their hearts.”
William Carlos Williams“In the kitchen, her family nibbled Helen’s lemon squares. Melanie urged brownies on the nurses. “Take these,” she told Lorraine. “We can’t eat them all, but Helen won’t stop baking.”“Sweetheart,” Lorraine said, “everybody mourns in her own way.”Helen mourned her sister deeply. She arrived each day with shopping bags. Her cake was tender with sliced apples, but her almond cookies crumbled at the touch. Her pecan bars were awful, sticky-sweet and hard enough to break your teeth. They remained untouched in the dining room, because Helen never threw good food away.”
Allegra Goodman, Apple Cake“Our democracy is but a name. We vote? What does that mean? It means we choose between two bodies of real, though not avowed, autocrats. We choose between Tweedledum and Tweedledee...”
Helen Keller“A woman's voice answered, "Hello?"Walter cried back at her, "Hello, oh Lord, hello!""This is a recording," recited the woman's voice. "Miss Helen Arasumian is not home. Will you leave a message on the wire spool so she may call you when she returns? Hello? This is a recording. Miss Helen Arasumian is not home. Will you leave a message -"He hung up.He sat with his mouth twitching.On second thought he redialed that number."When Miss Helen Arasumian comes home," he said, "tell her to go to hell.”
Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles“Jamie leaned over. “And your perfect world?”“Mmm,” Helen smiled. “Perfect is complicated. Hard to explain.”“Give it a shot,” I prodded her.“It’s… beautiful is the best word to describe it,” she said.Jamie and I nodded.“Everything that isn’t necessary to getting what we want is gone,” she said, eyes closing, as if she was vividly imagining. “There’s an abundance of it all, thanks to science. Food is everywhere and it overflows and there’s nothing to worry about because we have and we want and we take. We’re, and by we I mean people, we’re everywhere and we spill over into one another and we’re all knit together, physically and mentally. It’s an exquisite landscape of things that don’t ever run out to see and touches and tastes and smells and mating and eating and mindless fighting and eating-mating and fighting-eating and fighting-”“Okay,” I said, interrupting. I paused, then when I couldn’t think of what to say. “Okay.”Helen reached down to her plate, used a fingertip to wipe up a bit of frosting, and popped it into her mouth, sucking it off.“Okay,” I said, still at a bit of a loss for words.“That’s a mental image that’s going to be with me forever,” Jamie said, dropping his head down until his face was in his hands.“I don’t see where ethics come into that world,” I said, more to see Jamie’s reaction than out of curiosity.“No,” Jamie said. “Don’t-”“The closer you get to perfection, the further you get from ethics,” Helen said, as if it was common sense.”
Wildbow, Twig