![“How fair are the bright eyes in the grass! Evermind they are called, Simbelynë in this land of Men, for they blossom in all the seasons of the year, and grow where dead men rest.
-Gandalf [The Two Towers; The King of the Golden Hall]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwrp3i8gIA1qee7ixo1_400.gif)
“How fair are the bright eyes in the grass! Evermind they are called, Simbelynë in this land of Men, for they blossom in all the seasons of the year, and grow where dead men rest.
-Gandalf [The Two Towers; The King of the Golden Hall]
"Words tend to fill the mind, pictures tend to clear it."
– Magnificent Ruin (via nevver)
"If you say I hide things because I’m shy, that can’t be right. I’ve finally realized it’s for a different reason— that I don’t want to see the darkness that lies in my heart."
– Natsuo Kirino, Real World (via the-healing-nest)
"She herself is a haunted house. She does not possess herself; her ancestors sometimes come and peer out of the windows of her eyes and that is very frightening. She has the mysterious solitude of ambiguous states; she hovers in a no-man’s land between life and death, sleeping and waking."
– Angela Carter, “The Lady of the House of Love” from The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories (via awritersruminations)
"Writing a poem is like having an affair, a one-night stand; a short story is a romance, a relationship; a novel is a marriage—one has to be cunning, devise compromises, and make sacrifices."
– Amos Oz (via theparisreview)
"In the coffee shop,
she sips her tea and watches
each one of the people coming and going, thinking, yes, my fury could eat all of you, it really could, the barrista boy, the fat woman with the scone, all of you, your warm blood would fill my throat
the flesh from your limbs would be chewed and gnawed the snapping of my teeth would splinter your bones, your pickled livers would be licked and swallowed, and finally, the points of my incisors would cut down into the steaming, warm meat of your hearts. I would wolf you down
in big, chomping bites.
And you would be gone, all of you,
the planet emptier and quiet,
all your busy rushing silenced
while my unquenchable fury
screams on."
she sips her tea and watches
each one of the people coming and going, thinking, yes, my fury could eat all of you, it really could, the barrista boy, the fat woman with the scone, all of you, your warm blood would fill my throat
the flesh from your limbs would be chewed and gnawed the snapping of my teeth would splinter your bones, your pickled livers would be licked and swallowed, and finally, the points of my incisors would cut down into the steaming, warm meat of your hearts. I would wolf you down
in big, chomping bites.
And you would be gone, all of you,
the planet emptier and quiet,
all your busy rushing silenced
while my unquenchable fury
screams on."
– Toby Barlow, Sharp Teeth (via oldredscarf)
