TID Appreciation Week | Day 3: Favourite scene » Chapter 21, Clockwork Princess

"She was rising, growing. Her bones stretched and elongated, a lattice being pulled outward and upward as she grew impossibly. Her skin had turned gold, and it stretched and tore as she hurtled upward like the bean stalk from the old fairy tale, and where her skin tore, golden ichor leaked from the wounds. Curls like shavings of hot white metal sprang from her head, surrounding her face. And from her back burst wings-massive wings, greater than any bird’s." 

All of us have secrets in our lives. We are keepers or kept from, players or played. Secrets and cockroaches. That’s what will be left at the end of it all.

(Source: allyriadaynes)