#OpeningSentence

While the sisters of the Our Lady of Impossible Constellations argued themselves in circles, the Reverend Mother sat silently in her chair at the head of the chapel as she always did, listening to the arguments twist and double back on themselves.

— Sisters of the Vast Black by Lina Rather (Our Lady of Endless Worlds, #1)

The first time Isabel heard a voice in her head, she’d tried to talk back.

— The Colours of Death by Patricia Marques (Inspector Reis, #1)

Dr. Bharadwaj told me once that she thought I hated planets because of the whole thing with being considered expendable and the possibility of being abandoned. I told her it was because planets were boring.

— System Collapse by Martha Wells (The Murderbot Diaries, #7)

There was a grim determination Maritza found, sometimes, when there was nothing to be done about how wrong the world had slid.

— Rose/House by Arkady Martine

Basit Deniau's greatest architectural triumph is the house he died in.

— Rose/House by Arkady Martine

Now, standing in front of the tower, it was far too real.

— The Warden by Daniel M. Ford (The Warden, #1)

Her name was Dumai, from an ancient word for a dream that ends too soon.

— A Day of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon (The Roots of Chaos, #0)

I’m really not supposed to be doing this, but a girl’s gotta get paid.

— The Library of the Dead by T. L. Huchu

Raindrops slapped the cowl of Rafe’s cloak as he followed Jassa through the trees.

— Viscera by Gabriel Squailia

Stella Wallace met her family’s god when she was nine years old.

— Revelator by Daryl Gregory

The war had begun long before we arrived because war was their way of life.

— Semiosis by Sue Burke, Sue Burke (Semiosis Duology, #1)

Onna Gebowa had always liked numbers.

— Unnatural Magic by C. M. Waggoner

I was standing on a stranger’s doorstep and wishing my feet were nailed to the ground.

— Non-Player Character by Veo Corva

I was seven years old the first time my uncle poisoned me.

— City of Lies by Sam Hawke

That morning, God was complaining again.

— City of Last Chances by Adrian Tchaikovsky