Whenever I've introduced new regular features here on The Speculative Scotsman in the past, I've made a bit of a song and dance about what I mean for them to be. Quoth the Scotsman, however, needs no introduction; it's just a space for me to post neat quotes as and when I come across them.
Simple. As. That.
We're going to kick things off with a choice diatribe from the book I was reading before I nipped off on holiday... a book which, I'll not mince my words, absolutely floored me.
"Children, you must understand, are monsters. They are ravenous, ravening, they lope over the countryside with slavering mouths, seeking love to devour. Even when they find it, even if they roll about in it and gorge themselves, still it will never be enough. Their hunger for it is greater than any heart to satisfy. You mustn't think poorly of them for it - we are all monsters that way, it is only that when we are grown, we learn more subtle methods to snatch it up, and secretly slurp our fingers clean in dark corners, relishing even the last dregs. All children know is a clumsy sort of pouncing after love. They often miss, but that is how they learn." (p.94)
From The Habitation of the Blessed by Catherynne M. Valente
Coming in November from Night Shade Books