• 17th November
    2012
  • 17
Post
There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic.
Diane Setterfield
  • 1st July
    2012
  • 01
  • 1st July
    2012
  • 01
  • 18th April
    2012
  • 18
  • 3rd February
    2012
  • 03
  • 14th January
    2012
  • 14
Post
Finding someone you love and who loves you back is a wonderful, wonderful feeling. But finding a true soul mate is an even better feeling. A soul mate is someone who understands you like no other, loves you like no other, will be there for you forever, no matter what. They say that nothing lasts forever, but I am a firm believer in the fact that for some, love lives on even after we’re gone.- P.S. I Love You. 

Finding someone you love and who loves you back is a wonderful, wonderful feeling. But finding a true soul mate is an even better feeling. A soul mate is someone who understands you like no other, loves you like no other, will be there for you forever, no matter what. They say that nothing lasts forever, but I am a firm believer in the fact that for some, love lives on even after we’re gone.
- P.S. I Love You. 

  • 6th January
    2012
  • 06
  • 18th September
    2011
  • 18
Post
We’re all made of stories. When they finally put us underground, the stories are what will go on. Not forever, perhaps, but for a time. It’s a kind of immortality, I suppose, bounded by limits, it’s true, but then so’s everything.
Charls de Lint
  • 17th September
    2011
  • 17
Post
Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can. But life leaps over oblivion lightly, losing only a thing or two of no importance, and gloom is but the passing shadow of a cloud…
Yann Martel
  • 11th September
    2011
  • 11
Post
It was a hurting tune, resigned, a cry of heartache for all in the world that fell apart. As ash rose black against the brilliant sky, Fire’s fiddle cried out for the dead, and for the living who stay behind to say goodbye.
Kristin Cashore