Catherynne M. Valente
Catherynne M. Valente
...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth5 May 1979
CountryUnited States of America
confused mind stories
He tried to reconstruct the story in his mind, but it kept getting confused, bleeding into itself like watercolors.
children lying heart
I perceive that you have a cruel heart, my child. It lies within your breast like a smoldering blade, hissing steam at me.
beautiful savages pure
She was beautiful and terrifying, savage and pure.
thinking mad bits
And if they thought her aimless, if they thought her a bit mad, let them. It meant they left her alone. Marya was not aimless, anyway. She was thinking.
butterfly childhood way
Marya pinned out her childhood like a butterfly. She considered it the way a mathematician considers an equation.
wind names parent
True names,” said September wonderingly. “These are all true names. Like, when your parents call you to dinner and you don’t come and they call again but you still don’t come, and they call you by all your names together, and then, of course, you have to come, and right quick. Because true names have power, like Lye said. But I never told anyone my true name. The Green Wind told me not to. I didn’t understand what he meant, but I do now.
sleep winter night
You look like a winter night", he had told her when he had given it to her. "I could sleep inside the cold of you".
princess sleep dark
She put her hand on her chest. “I have magic yet. If you will set the clock working again, then I must be still. I have read quite as many stories as you, September. More, no doubt. And I know a secret you do not: I am not the villain. I am no dark lord. I am the princess in this tale. I am the maiden, with her kingdom stolen away. And how may a princess remain safe and protected through centuries, no matter who may assail her? She sleeps. For a hundred years, for a thousand. Until her enemies have all perished and the sun rises over her perfect, innocent face once more.
sleep kissing wind
One can never be sure,” the Green Wind sighed. “There is always the danger of kisses where sleeping maids are concerned. But you are safe now, and for awhile yet, and why worry about a thing that may never come to pass? Do not ruin today with mourning tomorrow.
fun laughter heart
Marya Morevna, we are better at this than you are. We can hold two terrible ideas at once in our hearts. Never have your folk delighted us more, been more like family. For a devil, hypocrisy is a parlour game, like charades. Such fun, and when the evening is done we shall be holding our bellies to keep from dying of laughter.
despair storm september
The storm ate up September’s cry of despair, delighted at its mischief, as all storms are.
book heart doors
A book is a door, you know. Always and forever. A book is a door into another place and another heart and another world.
country tea want
It is harder, usually, to find a person who wants to walk the streets of me, to taste the teas of my country, to... immigrate, you could say.
sweet mean home
When one is traveling, everything looks brighter and lovelier. That does not mean it IS brighter and lovelier; it just means that sweet, kindly home suffers in comparison to tarted-up foreign places with all their jewels on.