Memory Is A Funny Thing. When I Was In The Scene I Hardly Paid It Any Attention. I Never Stopped To Think
Memory is a funny thing. When I was in the scene I hardly paid it any attention. I never stopped to think of it as something that would make a lasting impression, certainly never imagined that 18 years later I would recall it in such detail. I didn’t give a damn about the scenery that day. I was thinking about myself. I was thinking about the beautiful girl walking next to me. I was thinking about the two of us together, and then about myself again. I was at that age, that time of life when every sight, every feeling, every thought came back, like a boomerang, to me. And worse, I was in love. Love with complications. Scenery was the last thing on my mind.
- Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
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Sue Zhao
You're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.
Characters are obliged to act according to the laws of the world in which they live. In other words, the narrator is the prisoner of his own premises.
- Umberto Eco
adonis, tr. by khaled mattawa
This was THE scene!! The way Barbie was afraid of being perceived as “ugly” and trying to avoid aging just for her to see people in the real world and understand what it really means. The way she softly says “you’re beautiful” and the woman plays along with her by saying “I know”. The way it was her first good experience with someone in the real world. Everything about it was just perfect
We should cherish more little moments like baking, reading, listening or singing music, creating art, watching the rain outside through your window, noticing the colors of the sky, dancing around your house etc. These little moments is not little if we think for some minutes.
I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
the night circus says what if every piece on a chessboard had a personality and a history all their own. what if the victor of the last game was still skulking on the board. what if the queens were imbued with unearthly magical power and aimed directly at each other. and what if they fell in love
I think it’s beautiful, the way you sparkle, when you talk about, the things you love.
- Atticus Poetry, Love Her Wild
my favourite lines from The Bees in The Starless Sea
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faerieliterature reblogged this · 2 years ago
