But life is not a fairy tale. It's brighter and darker, longer and briefer, duller and more magical. It's full of contradictions, but one thing it's not being neat.

— Kirsty Logan

Daniel first kisses his brother in a town where no-one knows them, a no-account place that's barely even a town, just some buildings clustered around the highway: a smoky bar, an empty motel, a convenience store that only sells candy and condoms and beer. The nearest gas station is twenty miles away. The nearest bus station is fifty.

— Kirsty Logan

I met Baba Saga at the end of childhood – past pigtails and fairytales, but not quite ready to give up on make-believe.

— Kirsty Logan

It began with the Christmas tree lights. They were candy-bright, mouth-size. She wanted to feel the lightness of them on her tongue, the spark on her taste buds. Without him life was so dark, and all the holiday debris only made it worse. She promised herself she wouldn't bite down.

— Kirsty Logan

It’s a grace feather. See how its colors shift from green to blue, like the sea? It means remembrance. It shows that no distance, no amount of water between two people, will make them forget. Someone gave it to say that they remembered you.

— Kirsty Logan

I've thought and thought, but there's no other way to give you the truth except to hide it in a story and let you find your own way inside. All stories contain a truth if you look hard enough - but it might not be a good truth.

— Kirsty Logan

Momma was with the pony last night. Lily and I have him in the mornings, and we give him a wash with the whammy cloths and a soapy bucket so he's ready for Jade to look after him the next night. I think Momma must ride him too rough because he's always sweating and white-eyed when we get him, pulling tight at his rope and spreading his wide beige lips. He won't settle forever and ever, he just turns circles around the stake. I and Lily get nervy watching him paw scoops out of the backyard soil.

— Kirsty Logan

Once upon a time there was an empress, trapped as a ghost in the ruins of a jewelled palace, cursed to find another soul to take her place. At least, that's what the empress heard. But, as it turned out, stories can have any ending you like.

— Kirsty Logan

She used to be all right, RNA, when we were kids. I liked that she wasn't fussed about her antlers.

— Kirsty Logan

That August, Elodie Selkirk became the latest lady in Paris to order a coin-operated boy.

— Kirsty Logan