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14 November 2012 @ 07:28 pm
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Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 07:50 pm (UTC)
There was no sound but that of his shoes and the now senseless singing of birds. Once I thought they sang because everything was right with the world, Robert Neville thought. I know now I was wrong. They sing because they’re feeble-minded.

I Am Legend, Richard Matheson
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 08:09 pm (UTC)
They're certainly entitled to think that, and they're entitled to full respect for their opinions...but before I can live with other folks I've got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn't abide by majority rule is a person's conscience.

To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 08:12 pm (UTC)
We laugh and laugh, and nothing can ever be sad, no one can be lost, or dead, or far away: right now we are here, and nothing can mar our perfection, or steal the joy of this perfect moment.

The Time Traveler's Wife, Audrey Niffenegger
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 08:18 pm (UTC)
Basically. I wish that you loved me.

Nicest Thing, Kate Nash
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 08:21 pm (UTC)
There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the extra person in the room.

The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 08:24 pm (UTC)
Were there darker provinces of night, he would have found them.

Child of God, Cormac McCarthy
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 08:26 pm (UTC)
Jesus, I’m not going to be one of those people who sits around talking about what they’re gonna do. Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.

Looking for Alaska, John Green
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 08:34 pm (UTC)
I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us.
If the book we are reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for? We need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide.
A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.

Franz Kafka
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 08:53 pm (UTC)
We ate the birds. We ate them. We wanted their songs to flow up through our throats and burst out of our mouths, and so we ate them. We wanted their feathers to bud from our flesh. We wanted their wings, we wanted to fly as they did, soar freely among the treetops and the clouds, and so we ate them. We speared them, we clubbed them, we tangled their feet in glue, we netted them, we spitted them, we threw them onto hot coals, and all for love, because we loved them.

We Ate The Birds, Margaret Atwood
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 09:02 pm (UTC)
I’m gonna float up in the ceiling, I built a levee of the stars. And in my field of tired horses, I built a freeway through this farce.

I Won't Be Found, The Tallest Man on Earth
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 09:09 pm (UTC)
You came down from heaven to the branch outside my window, your feathers were the color of snow. The dice were loaded against us ever seeing each other. But one of us had nowhere else to go.

Snow Owl, The Mountain Goats
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 09:12 pm (UTC)
The sea's only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong.

Into The Wild, Christopher McCandless
Angharadstarsburn on November 14th, 2009 09:15 pm (UTC)
There would be no eulogies for Bob. No photographs of his body would be sold in sundries stores, no people would crowd the streets in the rain to see his funeral cortege, no biographies would be written about him. No children named after him, no one would ever pay twenty-five cents to stand in the rooms he grew up in.
The shotgun would ignite, and Ella Mae would scream, but Robert Ford would only lay on the floor and look at the ceiling, the light going out of his eyes before he could find the right words.

The Assassination of Jesse James, Ron Hansen
Angharadstarsburn on November 17th, 2009 02:56 pm (UTC)
You said I killed you - haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad!
Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you.

Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
Angharadstarsburn on November 17th, 2009 03:03 pm (UTC)
If only dying was easy. I tried it one night.
I put my face close to his mouth and breathed his breath.
For I had often thought, the breath of a person you no
longer love or respect could be a poison to kill you. And it does. But it kills you slowly. So slowly that
it isn't often you notice you are dying.

Sacred Country, Rose Tramain
Angharadstarsburn on November 18th, 2009 05:53 pm (UTC)
Finally I confessed. Trembling, I brought you the hammer and showed my broken fingers.
Leaves and branches in my hair, the diagrams of Autumn on the sky.
And you smiled and said it didn't matter about the birds and drank at my tears like a rare and fragile wine, that they too would not be wasted.

Beauty and the Beast, Jaimes Alsop
Angharadstarsburn on November 18th, 2009 07:10 pm (UTC)
As cold and bleak a dawn as he'd ever known washing the windows. He never saw her again. She was a page torn from a calender, a year folded neatly and laid aside in some place you never look. Her name on his tongue was dry as ashes, bitter as quinine.

Twilight, William Gay
Angharadstarsburn on January 9th, 2010 11:06 pm (UTC)
I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. They come from ahead and they come from behind. But I've bought a big bat, I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me.

Dr Seuss

Angharadstarsburn on January 28th, 2010 06:03 pm (UTC)
There in that embrace, she feels something
shuffling around, moving warily
fumbling through the dusty rooms of her heart,
and, one by one, turning on the lights.

Sharp Teeth, Toby Barlow

Angharadstarsburn on January 28th, 2010 06:15 pm (UTC)
Being a child, one afternoon, she snuck in for a bite.
Then crept back for another.
Again and again, till the tin lay bare.
Then she waited
for the inevitable,
but nothing came, the skies stayed clear,
nothing clouded her mother's gaze.
At the dinner table,
in her kiss goodnight, she kept waiting
until finally she realised:
the worst secrets are the ones
that sit like spiders
waiting to bite.

Sharp Teeth, Toby Barlow

Angharadstarsburn on January 28th, 2010 06:17 pm (UTC)
We are all china barely mended,
just clumsily glued together and waiting
for the hot water and lemon
to seep through our seams.

Sharp Teeth, Toby Barlow

Angharadstarsburn on January 31st, 2010 05:17 pm (UTC)
The world as a result, turned backwards
where blossoms buried themselves while
roots reached like starving fingers
to the grey and fruitless sky.

Sharp Teeth, Toby Barlow

Angharadstarsburn on January 31st, 2010 05:22 pm (UTC)
So eager for eternal damnation.

New Moon, Stephenie Meyer

Angharadstarsburn on March 4th, 2010 07:24 pm (UTC)
Nostalgia - it's delicate, but potent. In Greek, 'nostalgia' literally means 'the pain from an old wound'. It's a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn't a spaceship, it's a time machine. It goes backwards, and forwards. It takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It's not called the wheel, it's called the carousel. It lets us travel the way a child travels - around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know are loved.

Mad Men, Don Draper
Angharadstarsburn on June 13th, 2010 04:37 pm (UTC)
I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin.

I want.

Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen
Angharadstarsburn on June 13th, 2010 04:46 pm (UTC)
"So, did you two manage to hook up?" I ask, lifting my fork to my mouth and trying to sound casual.
"No, we arrived in seperate taxis. Twice the expense, but I'd pay it a hundred times over to make sure my darling wife was safe - wouldn't I, darling?"
Marlena stares at her plate.
"I said wouldn't I, darling?"
"Yes, of course you would," she says flatly.
"Because if I thought she was in any danger at all, there's no knowing what I might do."
I look up quickly. August is staring right at me.

Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen

Angharadstarsburn on June 14th, 2010 09:00 pm (UTC)
He stares at me, and then leans back in his chair. "He's ill, Jacob."
I say nothing.
"He's paragon schnitzophonic."
"He's what?!"
"Paragon schnitzophonic," repeats Uncle Al.
"You mean paranoid schizophrenic?"
"Sure. Whatever. But the bottom line is he's mad as a hatter"

Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen

Angharadstarsburn on June 14th, 2010 09:10 pm (UTC)
"Damn, August," I say. "I almost forgot. The cats haven't eaten. We had to dump their meat."
"It's all right, my boy," he says. "It's already been taken care of."
"What do you mean, taken care of?"
I stop in my tracks.
"August? What do you mean it's been taken care of?"
August continues walking, the gun slung casually over his shoulder.

Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen