Megan Shepherd Quotes

I know what a human brain preserved in formaldehyde looks like," I said, "We've got to get out of here. Go to the party, act as though nothing's happened. He can't suspect that we know."

"How can I act like papa doesn't have a brain in a hatbox?

Sometimes mistakes are worth making.

You thirst for magic so you can exact revenge. You want to destroy, to tear down. I see it in your eyes."
"And what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, my dear, as long as you don't mind living in a broken world.

We have three rules we require you to follow," the Caretaker continued, oblivious of her fear, "which are for your own benefit and that of your species. The first is to solve the enrichment puzzles. This will strengthen your physical and mental conditioning. The second rule is to maintain your health by eating the food we provide for you, getting ample sleep, and cooperating in routine health assessments. The third rule is to ensure the continuation of your species by engaging in procreative activities.

You and me, we look out for each other. But I will take care of you a little extra, because I am your person, and you will always be my special horse.

We're going to die, aren't we?" I asked bitterly.
He held me so tight I could hardly breathe. But I wanted tighter still. "Not here. I swear it.

Call it sentimentality. Call it curiosity.
Just don't call it madness.

I was afraid that I'd forgotten all the colors of the rainbow, but I know just where I can find them again.

Love wasn't just a combination of matching physical and personal criteria. It was something you couldn't put into words, just a certainty, a twist of fate, a spark.

I am a monster because I have too much of something.

She'd loved Mada Vittora once. A twisted, misunderstood love, but even the cruelest forms of love were never lost without heartache.

But I couldn't get the image out of my head of the beast strapped to the table, Father humming while the candle wax slowly dripped, and Montgomery assisting. I felt betrayed, as though the boy I'd idolized was nothing more than a fantasy.

No serum can change who you are. Nor should you change. Genius or madness- it all depends on who's telling the story.

Oh, and Juliet," he said. I turned back. Half of his face was thrown in deep shadow, while the whites of his teeth gleamed in the distant lights from the salon. "I'll be working in the laboratory late tonight. I've a good start on the new specimens. Don't be alarmed if you're awoken. The animals - they scream, you know. An unfortunate effect of vivisection. It keeps the whole household up."
For a breath, the world seemed to freeze. And then the clouds rolled again, the wind howled again. I realized that he had charmed me, just like he charmed everyone. I'd thought I was so clever. I thought I could see past his manipulations. But I'd heard only what I wanted to.
He'd never said the accusations were untrue. Just unfair.

Whether I'm right or wrong has nothing to do with gender.

The heel of Montgomery's boot tapped nervously against the floor, as if he knew he was a bad liar. "I can't say how he'll take the news at first. He can be unpredictable, but in the end he'll be glad you came." He leaned forward, blue eyes simmering. His boot tapped faster. "I'm glad you came.

There's dark magic there," Luc warned. "Creatures who like the cold, who like girls who wander into their woods. Whatever you do, don't let them kiss you.

Paranoia had crept into that part of my brain usually reserved for reason.

Analyzing, always analyzing - I couldn't feel safe until I knew every aspect of what I was facing.

Dying wasn't so bad, not really. Not when you could go out like this, on a summer's evening with the fireflies winking in the trees. She always thought dying would be a scream into a void, a thrashing, a searing. Not this slow and sleepy drip.

All men like him ever see are aprons. I could be Mada Vittora risen from the dead, but if I had a mop in my hand he's still just ask for tea.

You aren't made for sweeping floors, little beastie," he said quietly. "Don't you know that?

Something breathing, something bleeding, something blue.
It was time to cast her first spell as the Gargoyle.

For a moment, he rested his hand on the pitchfork, breath ragged. Strands of hair escaped the ponytail and fell over his eyes, making him look wild, untamed. He'd changed so much from that quiet boy. He'd had to, growing up with monsters as playmates.

The rising and falling cadence of words, carried on the wind, spoken in a language other than human.

Flesh, blood, bone
the body is only a container for who we truly are inside.

If she thought the blood on Anouk's clothes or the fact that Anouk was barefoot and missing two toes was odd, she didn't bat an eye.

Love can sometimes do the impossible.

The Beast had been a monster. He'd been a murderer. And yet on some terrible, deep level, he had been the only one to truly understand me.

Hate the part of him that gave in to madness. But don't hate your father, not all of him. There was a time when he loved you very much, and that's what you should remember.

How do you ignore the voices in your head? The ones that won't let you just be happy. The ones that want more out of life. More like what men are free to do
study what they want, go where they want, BE who they want

He asked for a knife," she said. "What do you think that means? It's not for eclairs, I can promise you that.

We've scrambled for our lives," she said softly. "Now we have to scramble for our world.

I rested my forehead against the wall and closed my eyes. It wasn't just my curiosity, or my fascination with anatomy, or how I could unhesitatingly chop a rabbit's head off with an ax when a roomful of boys couldn't. Those things were all symptoms of the same sickness - a kind of madness inherited from my father. It was a dangerous pull in my gut drawing me toward the dark possibilities of science, toward the thin line between life and death, toward the animal impulses hidden behind a corset and a smile.

Apparently profanity had a way of making men listen.

Voice spoke in my ear, both familiar and terrifying. Don't run,

My heartbeat faltered. He pulled away, taking a little piece of my heart with him.

A scream hurled up my throat, but I never heard it. I'd slipped into a welcoming darkness.

Only humans could write such pain and love, could make her swoon one minute and cry the next over something that had never really happened to people who'd never really existed.

He smiled grimly, though there was no glee in it, as though for once he understood how heartbreaking this was for me. 'No serum can change who you are. Nor should you change. Genius or madness-it all depends on who's telling the story.' His hand stopped tapping, and that humanity flickered again in his eye. 'You're perfect as you are, my love.

How could a monster love anything but destruction?

Thwack. The nail drove deeper, as if Montgomery was driving it into my very heart. How hard was it to fix a loose nail? He hit it again and again, determined to set that bookshelf straight. Determined to do something right, after so much wrong.

It rankled Anouk - they shouldn't ever have to be anything other than themselves.

Dead flesh and sharpened scalpels didn't bother me. I was my father's daughter, after all. My nightmares were made of darker things.

Beauty had a way of masking something darker.

He was a survivor, like me

Breath slipped from her. His was the face from her dreams. The most beautiful creature she had ever seen, yet he no longer looked angelic. He was terrifying.

They always said crazy people never knew they were crazy.

I ran after him, but he was already back with the others. My footsteps echoed in the hollow space below the dock. I stopped. If he'd wanted me to catch him, he'd have let me.

Miss Juliet,' he said calmly. 'I can smell you in the wall. Is something wrong/

Suddenly he brushed his rough thumb against my jaw, catching me by surprise. Heat erupted across my face as I drew in a sharp breath. Was he going to kiss me? My eyelids sank closed. Our bodies were practically touching. It was wrong to be so close to a boy - every moment of Mother's upbringing had taught me that. But I didn't care. We were bound together, he and I.

It isn't about the sharpness of the blade, but the hand that holds it.' Science doesn't do good or ill by itself- it's the intention behind it.

How did you survive?" I asked. My question caught him off guard, and his hand curled around the dice. He gave a cautious shrug. "The grace of God, I suppose.

Sometimes you remind me so much of your father it's frightening.