Nalo Hopkinson

Beauty and ingenuity beat perfection hands down, every time.

The heaviness of loss in her heart hadn't eased, but there was room there for humour, too.

How do I know anything? How is it that my arms stretched out in front of me are so pale? How to I even know that they should be brown like riverbank mud, as they were when I was many goddesses with many worshippers, ruling in lands on the other side of a great, salty ocean? I used to be many, but now we are one, all squeezed together, many necks in one coffle.

Suck all the juice this life will give!

You folk are so finicky about time, living it in straight lines like that.

When your elders are millennia-old demigods, you’d best take the injunction to respect your elders seriously.

In the back of my mind’s eye, everything had a fuzzy green haze on it, like a brand-new tennis ball. The world was getting its Shine on.