Best 12 quotes of Alaya Dawn Johnson on MyQuotes

Gods are what people worship. Men are what die.

The past stands in the path of the future, knowing it will be crushed.

Think of it like the best mac and cheese you've ever had. No neon yellow Velveeta and bread crumbs. I'm talking gourmet cheddar, the expensive stuff from Vermont that crackles as it melts into the crust on top. Imagine if right before you were about to tear into it, the mac and cheese starts talking to you?

To love light, you have to love dark. I'm not trying to be profound, I know you'll understand. I don't mean that you have to hate to love, or that you have to die to live. I mean that sometimes, you turn out the lights just to turn them back on.

After everything that's happened, her fear of requesting a prescription or of asking Trevor about his mother baffles her. Shouldn't life-altering events make you less afraid of the little stuff? But it's the little stuff that paralyzes her: talking, eating, dressing, sleeping. Everyone in school is afraid of the apocalypse; she is afraid of living through it.

Amid all that blood of the dying sun, the verde was still alive.

And so Ikne walked away from his idyll and got a job sharpshooting for the Perambuco guerrillas in Salvador. It wasn't an easy life, and one day he got shot in the stomach by a lead bullet. The bullet fell in love with him, of course, but she couldn't stop the slow bleed of his gastric cavity into his pancreas, and she felt terrible, which was too bad, since he'd known all along what would happen. He died; he always said he would. Someone had to take out the bullet.

In the dark, I seem to stretch. Without a body to witness, I grow and grow with my pleasure. I feel like a constellation, a concept hung on a scattering of stars.

So I take my lover, my king, and I put him in a pedestal and I cut him down. A man, like the ones who ruined the world.

The kingdom of sleep demands its forfeits, and the world looks very different through eyes cracked and yellow with its denial.

Then you remember that Jack--that's his name, the mac & cheese--plays lacrosse. That's probably where he got all those yummy muscles. You need two hands for lacrosse. A pinky? Damn, you might as well starve yourself.

The summer kings are gods, and we are finally, in the end, just men.