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from The Ladies of Grace Adieu
Nov. 15th, 2018 03:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redcheekdaysWhat is Magic?
Magic, madam, is like wine and, if you are not used to it, it will make you drunk.
Magic, madam, is like wine and, if you are not used to it, it will make you drunk.
redcheekdays
from Salt to the Sea
Nov. 15th, 2018 03:17 pmredcheekdaysThe trees hold hundreds of years of stories. Think of it, everything these trees have seen and felt. All of the secrets are inside of them.
(no subject)
Jul. 23rd, 2018 01:05 pmredcheekdaysAnne was always glad in the happiness of her friends; but it is sometimes a little lonely to be surrounded everywhere by happiness that is not your own.
from The Book of Joan
Apr. 22nd, 2018 05:51 pmredcheekdaysBe careful what stories you tell yourselves about beauty, about otherness. Be careful what stories 'count.' They will have consequences that shiver the planet.
redcheekdaysBut don’t forget who you really are. And I’m not talking about your so-called real name. All names are made up by someone else, even the one your parents gave you. You know who you really are. When you’re alone at night, looking up at the stars, or maybe lying in bed in total darkness, you know that nameless person inside you.... Your muscles will toughen. So will your heart and soul. That’s necessary for survival. But don’t lose touch with that person deep inside you, or else you won’t really survive at all.
from The Bloody Chamber
Apr. 20th, 2018 01:09 pmredcheekdaysThe perennial sadness of a girl who is both Death and the Maiden.
from Melancholy Play
Jun. 26th, 2017 12:11 pmredcheekdaysThey say that’s what happens when you fall in love. You want to tell people things. You especially want to tell them sad things. Hidden sad things from the past. [...] I want to tell you all the sad things, and then you will know me better than other people know me and that means we are reserved for one another. Because we made a reservation like at a restaurant like at a grand hotel and we made this reservation with a certain foreign currency made of secret sad information we told each other in private rooms.
from the Book on Fire
May. 26th, 2017 11:04 amredcheekdaysThe way to love someone is to lightly run your finger over that person’s soul until you find a crack, and then gently pour your love into that crack.
redcheekdaysI tell too many stories at once. This, too, is a violence. But I want to tell you everything, I want you to love me for it, and I want you to forgive me after I say everything you asked me not to say.
from A Constellation of Vital Phenomena
Feb. 15th, 2017 12:35 pmredcheekdaysWe wear clothes, and speak, and create civilizations, and believe we are more than wolves. But inside us there is a word we cannot pronounce and that is who we are.
from White Oleander
Feb. 15th, 2017 11:55 amredcheekdaysDon’t hoard the past... Don’t cherish anything. Burn it. The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge.
from White Oleander
Feb. 15th, 2017 11:54 amredcheekdaysIf I were a poet, that’s what I’d write about. People who worked in the middle of the night. Men who loaded trains, emergency room nurses with their gentle hands. Night clerks in hotels, cabdrivers on graveyard, waitresses in all-night coffee shops. They knew the world, how precious it was when a person remembered your name, the comfort of a rhetorical question, “How’s it going, how’s the kids?” They knew how long the night was. They knew the sound life made as it left. It rattled, like a slamming screen door in the wind. Night workers lived without illusions, they wiped dreams off counters, they loaded freight. They headed back to the airport for one last fare.
from White Oleander
Feb. 15th, 2017 11:53 amredcheekdaysI understood why she did it. At that moment I knew why people tagged graffiti on the walls of neat little houses and scratched the paint on new cars and beat up well-tended children. It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.
from Alias Grace
Feb. 15th, 2017 11:49 amredcheekdaysAnd it was Death itself who stood behind me, with his arms wrapped around me as tight as iron bands, and his lipless mouth kissing my neck as if in love. But as well as the horror, I also felt a strange longing.
from Everblaze: Keeper of the Lost Cities
Feb. 15th, 2017 11:23 amredcheekdaysIt takes a special someone to see darkness inside of someone and not condemn them.
from The Picture of Dorian Gray
Feb. 15th, 2017 11:01 amredcheekdaysThere were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realize his conception of the beautiful.
from The Eternal Husband
Feb. 15th, 2017 10:46 amredcheekdaysOne drinks one’s own sorrow and is as if intoxicated by it.
from Shadowfever
Feb. 15th, 2017 10:23 amredcheekdaysSome people bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best, and then there are those remarkably rare, addictive ones who just bring out the most. Of everything. They make you feel so alive that you’d follow them straight into hell, just to keep getting your fix.
from Plainwater
Feb. 15th, 2017 10:20 amredcheekdaysHumans in love are terrible. You see them come hungering at one another like prehistoric wolves, you see something struggling for life in between them like a root or a soul and it flares for a moment, then they smash it.