You presume to name those who have no name. We are pandemonium and disaster. We are the dancing, gibbering horror of the world.
But what Davenport had been born into had taken so much from her, leaving her with just the wickedest and the worst. Her father had given her life, and then taken every scrap of joy or freedom, and even now that he was dead, all he had left her with was a deep, abiding hatred for what she was.
It's strange, but seeing something broken is somehow worse when you can tell that it used to be beautiful.
I've never been impulsive. It's always been in my nature to consider things carefully and then decide upon the best solution. Except, sometimes the circumstances change. Sometimes things get so complicated and so bad that your nature just doesn't matter anymore.
All great acts are ruled by intention. What you mean is what you get.
Sometimes it doesn't matter how dark the world gets. You can be saved by the smallest thing.
All my life, I've understood the nature of where I come from, but I never thought it might be wicked until now.
I had only to remember that centuries before, men fell in battle for the daughter of Troy, that passions carried greater weight than decorum. It took so little to prove that human life and property are devastatingly temporary. All she had to do was lie down for a prince. They burned the city to the ground.
I fell headfirst into a sinkhole of pretty things, and the world inside your eyelids is just as big as the one outside.
The treachery of demons is nothing compared to the betrayal of an angel.
The simple truth is that you can understand the way you are. You can know and love and hate it. You can blame it, resent it, and nothing changes. In the end, you're just a part of it.
Once, I ordered two thousand lady bugs from the local garden center and set them loose in the atrium. I sprinkled marigold seeds in the ficus planters and put gold fish in the lobby fountain. These are things I did with no consequences, no repercussions. My nineteen detentions were for smart answers and missed homework. There is no equivalent punishment for making the world a stranger place.
The fact is, the contest has always been invulnerability, and even when you win, you still lose.
Let me tell you a little bit about demons. They love pain and other people’s misery. They lie when it suits them and don’t see anything wrong with it. They corrupt and kill and destroy, all without conscience. You just don’t have the capacity for something as honorable as loving another person.
People make decisions, and maybe you don't always agree, but those choices are still their own.
Once, my mother told a whole host of angels that she’d rather die than go back to a man she didn’t love.