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A Game of Thrones
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Howl’s Moving Castle
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Chanel Miller
“Some called it a witch hunt, said she’s after him. I ask, starting when. Mark the day. Trace it back. I can almost guarantee that after the assault she tried to live her life. Ask her what she did the next day and she’d say, well, I went to work. She didn’t pick up a pitchfork, hire a lawyer. She made her bed, buttoned up her shirt, took shower after shower. She tried to believe she was unchanged, to move on until her legs gave out. Every woman who spoke out did so because she hit a point where she could no longer live another day in the life she tried to build. So she turned, slowly, back around to face it. Society thinks we live to come after him. When in fact, we live to live. That’s it. He upended that life, and we tried to keep going, but couldn’t. Each time a survivor resurfaced, people were quick to say what does she want, why did it take her so long, why now, why not then, why not faster. But damage does not stick to deadlines. If she emerges, why don’t we ask her how it was possible she lived with that hurt for so long, ask who taught her to never uncover it.”
Chanel Miller, Know My Name

Chanel Miller
“I encourage you to sit in that garden, but when you do, close your eyes and I'll tell you about the real garden, the sacred place. Ninety feet away from where you sit there is a spot, where Brock's knees hit the dirt, where the Swedes tackled him to the ground, yelling 'What the fuck are you doing? Do you think this is okay?'. Put their words on a plaque. Mark that spot, because in my mind I've erected a monument. The place to be remembered is not where I was assaulted, but where he fell, where I was saved, where two men declared stop, no more, not here, not now, not ever.”
Chanel Miller, Know My Name

“The knowledge that I have gathered is that there is nothing better and nothing that gives you more tranquillity of spirit than offering yourself in love to another. This is the most important lesson I have learned, and through this I feel at peace.”
Pablo Vierci, Society of the Snow: The Definitive Account of the World’s Greatest Survival Story

Leigh Bardugo
“He and Nina had never exchanged gifts or rings; they’d had no possessions they shared. They had been wanderers and soldiers. Even so, she could not leave him with nothing. From her pocket, she drew a slender sprig of ash and let it drift down into the grave, followed by a smattering of withered red petals from the tulips their compatriots had placed on his chest when they bid him goodbye in Ketterdam.
“I know you never cared for sweets.” Her voice wobbled as she let a handful of toffees fall from her hand. They made a hollow patter. “But this way I’m with you, and you can keep them for me when I see you next. I know you won’t eat them yourself.”
Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“There are many different reasons why I paint, but without intending it I always recreate the same scene over and over again: a group of boys with outstretched arms, standing on the freezing mountain with two helicopters arriving from the valley. I paint them again and again, but what is most curious is that every time I paint them I count the boys, never knowing whether they are greeting the helicopters when they arrive or saying goodbye when they leave. I count them and I count them again, and with tears in my eyes I always discover that there are more than sixteen.”
Pablo Vierci, La sociedad de la nieve

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