“Is this what sadness is all about? It is what comes over us when beautiful memories shatter in hindsight because the remembered happiness fed not just on actual circumstances but on a promise that was not kept?”—Bernhard Schling, The Reader (via aestheticintrovert)
“Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words?”—The Picture of Dorian Gray Oscar Wilde
“Don’t worry about being original, she said dismissively. Yes, everything’s been written, but also, the thing you want to write, before you wrote it, was impossible to write. Otherwise it would already exist. You writing it makes it possible.”—
“I think that I shall never know
Why I am thus, and I am so.
Around me, other girls inspire
In men the rush and roar of fire,
The sweet transparency of glass,
The tenderness of April grass,
The durability of granite;
But me— I don’t know how to plan it.
The lads I’ve met in Cupid’s deadlock
Were— shall we say?— born out of wedlock.
They broke my heart, they stilled my song,
And said they had to run along,
Explaining, so to sop my tears,
First came their parents or careers.
But ever does experience
Deny me wisdom, calm, and sense!
Though she’s a fool who seeks to capture
The twenty-first fine, careless rapture,
I must go on, till ends my rope,
Who from my birth was cursed with hope.
A heart in half is chaste, archaic;
But mine resembles a mosaic—
The thing’s become ridiculous!
Why am I so? Why am I thus?”—"A Fairly Sad Tale" Dorothy Parker
“As a writer, I need an enormous amount of time alone. Writing is 90 percent procrastination: reading magazines, eating cereal out of the box, watching infomercials. It’s a matter of doing everything you can to avoid writing, until it is about four in the morning and you reach the point where you have to write. Having anybody watching that or attempting to share it with me would be grisly.”—Paul Rudnick
“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”—Anaïs Nin
Hey, I saw your comment on my comic, and I just wanted to let you know I super appreciate your support. I was super scared when I made it of getting a negative reception, and knowing I'm not alone made me feel a lot better. Thank you <3
Thank you for creating it! All of the cis hate on tumblr is really, really disturbing to me, but I had no idea how (or if) to express that opinion on my blog. Thank you for saying what I couldn’t find words for. :)
“In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.”—Isaac Marion “Warm Bodies” (via burninggravity)