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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| b2e8f2a | Shit, meet Fan. Fan, this is Shit. | meet shit | David Mitchell | |
| 8aa8875 | There's got to be a nasty or dangerous side to anything enjoyable or there's something wrong, something suspicious and hidden. If everything seems perfect, it means you're one of the Eloi and a Morlock is watching you with a napkin tucked under its chin. | David Mitchell | ||
| a86809a | Civilisation's like the economy or Tinkerbell: If people stop believing it's real, it dies. | David Mitchell | ||
| ea47360 | How could I know a famished heart will eat its mind? Can kill its body? | David Mitchell | ||
| 58b3be2 | That he loved her was his life's greatest grace--that she loved him was a burden and mystery beyond compare. | Rosalind Miles | ||
| f0424f6 | God, you mean I lost my virginity to the apocalypse?" Morgan sighed again. "The whole thing was really embarrassing; my parents sent me to Brooklyn when they found out." She shrugged. "I thought I'd be safe in a gay bar, okay? What were you doing in there anyway?" Lace looked at me sidelong. "You were where?" I took a sip of beer, swallowed it. "I, uh, hadn't been in the city...very long. I didn't know." | cal-thompson gay-bar virginity | Scott Westerfeld | |
| 8b33db8 | That was one problem with dramatic exits: Sometimes they wound up making you look like a bubblehead. | Scott Westerfeld | ||
| df908c1 | A rat called Possible New Strain was sitting under a spaghetti strainer held down with a pile of journalism textbooks, saying rude things in rat-speak. | rat rat-speak strainer | Scott Westerfeld | |
| 50f2615 | And thus did an Assistant Pig-Keeper become High King of Prydain. | lloyd-alexander prydain the-chronicles-of-prydain the-high-king | Lloyd Alexander | |
| 1b4d606 | The dear girl, I fear, may be contemplating some alarming, disruptive perhaps dangerous project. In which case, I would naturally do all in my power to keep her from any such rash or foolhardy enterprise - unless she wished me to accompany her. | Lloyd Alexander | ||
| 088557f | This instance in particular proves that beneath all that cool pseudo-academic hogwash lurked a very passionate man who knew how important it was to say "fuck" now and then, and say it loud too, relish its syllabic sweetness, its immigrant pride, a great American epic word really, starting at the lower lip , often the very front of the lower lip, before racing all the way to the back of the throat, where it finishes with a great blast, the c.. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| d165993 | all I have to do is extend my hand but I can't run that far. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| b996616 | I went outside. Tried taking in the billions of stars above, lingering long enough to allow each point of light the chance to scratch a deep hole in the back of my retina, so that when I finally did turn to face the dark surrounding forest I thought I saw the billion eyes of a billion cats blinking out, in the math of the living, the sum of the universe, the stories of history , a life older than anyone could have ever imagined. And even af.. | stars | Mark Z. Danielewski | |
| 3fb19df | Sometimes it's just silent...No sound at all. 'Does that scare you?' Chad nods. 'Why?' asks his father. 'It's like something's waiting. | silence | Mark Z. Danielewski | |
| 6f1e6bb | By the time she turned fifteen, all of that was gone. She hardly spoke in class. She refused to function in any sort of school event, and rather than discuss her feelings she deferred the world with a hard and perfectly practiced smile. Apparently--if her sister is to be believed--Karen spent every night of her fourteenth year composing that smile in front of a blue plastic handled mirror. Tragically her creation proved flawless and though .. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| c6d961e | for as leaves are to limbs, so are your words to your soul | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| d5a19fb | My flying kick nicks his nose. A warning. Worse if I weren't succumbing to squeal. What a feel. I'm too multiple to feel. A fork ahead. I take both. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| ab953bd | Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will,.. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 7527759 | Which in the gray of gentler eyes will prove far more than any of us could ever need; 'enough' we will shout, 'enough!' our bellies full, our hearts full, our ages full; fullness and greater fullness and even more fullness; how then we will laugh and forget how imagining has already left us. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 1318a98 | At first glance, it seems hard to believe these two men are even related let alone brothers. Tom is content if there happens to be a game on and a soft place from which to watch it. Navidson works out every day, devours volumes of esoteric criticism, and constantly attaches the world around him to one thing: photography. Tom gets by, Navidson succeeds. Tom just wants to be, Navidson must become. And yet despite such obvious differences, any.. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| da81dc4 | Navidson's troubles might not have created the house, but they did ultimately shape the way he faced it. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| acccbe2 | People frequently comment on the emptiness in one night stands, but emptiness here has always been just another word for darkness. Blind encounters writing sonnets no one can ever read. Desire and pain cmmunicated in the vague language of sex. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| b021cc4 | How easily she finds the impossible in the ordinary. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 2778cf9 | Footnote 164: "I finally hooked up with Ashley. I went over to her place yesterday morning. Early. She lives in Venice. Her eyebrows look like flakes of sunlight. Her smile, I'm sure, burnt Rome to the ground. And for the life of me I didn't know who she was or where we met... We sat down and I wanted to talk. I wanted to ask her who she was, where we'd met, been before, but she just smiled and held my hand as we lay down on the hammock and.. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| bc4ce25 | One by one our skies go black. Stars are extinguished, collapsing into distances too great to breach. Soon, not even the memory of light will survive. Long ago, our manifold universes discovered futures would only expand. No arms of limit could hold or draw them back. Short of a miracle, they would continue to stretch, untangle and vanish - abandoned at long last to an unwitnessed dissolution. That dissolution is now. Final winks slipping o.. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| f55818c | There once was a poor man who walked around without shoes. His feet were covered in calluses. One day a rich man felt sorry for the poor man and bought him a pair of Nikes. The poor man was extremely grateful and wore the shoes constantly. Well after a year or so, the shoes fell apart. So the poor man had to go back to running around barefoot, only now all his calluses were gone and his feet got all cut up and soon the cuts became infected .. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| aa08d34 | We did not just go to the stars. We became the stars. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 9d81673 | Never fear your fear. I am close. Don't forget. I am here. In losing your vision enlighten your own undertakings. In leaving our vision enlighten your own understanding. Always. I think you get this way of mine. Do you? I hope so. But if you don't it's no matter. For I shall be just the same, standing by, like some old still-growing tree, her rustle lost in fall but found again come spring. And of course you can lean on me. You can hide .. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| b11ca40 | FUCK. A great by-the-bootstrap prayer or curse of you prefer, depending on how you look at it, or use it, suited perfectly for hurling at the skies or at the world, or sometimes, if said just right, for uttering with enough love and fire, the woman beside you melts inside herself | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 092d943 | Symbols shmimbols. Sure they're important but... Well look at Ahab's whale. Now there's a great symbol. Some say it stands for god, meaning, and purpose. Others say it stands for purposelessness and the void. But what we sometimes forget is that Ahab's whale was also just a whale. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 2f50ed5 | You're writing like a freshman.' And he replied- I remember this very distinctly: 'We always look for doctors but sometimes we're lucky to find a frosh. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 705c562 | Of course real horror does not depend upon the melodrama of shadows or even the conspiracies of night. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 753a950 | Quick note here: if this crush-slash-swooning stuff is hard for you to stomach; if you've never had a similar experience, then you should come to grips with the fact that you've got a TV dinner for a heart and might want to consider climbing inside a microwave and turning it on high for at least an hour, which if you do consider only goes to show what kind of idiot you truly are because microwaves are way too small for anyone, let alone you.. | genre-crossing horror-novels house-of-leaves love mark-z-danielewski metaphyscial postmodernism romance | Mark Z. Danielewski | |
| 109e419 | Aside from recurrance, revision, and commensurate symbolic reference, echoes also reveal emptiness. Since objects always impede acoustic reflection, only empty places can create echoes of lasting clarity. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| cdbe58f | and this great blue world of ours seems a house of leaves moments before the wind | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 1a38fc8 | However, The haven-Slocum Theory also points out that this course is not without risk. An even greater number of people dwelling on The Navidson Record have shown an increase in obsessiveness, insomnia, and incoherence: "Most of those who chose to abandon their interest soon recovered. A few, however, required counseling and in some instances medication and hospitalization. Three cases resulted in suicide." | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| f8a24b4 | We both thrive in the late hours, appreciate its sad taste and never get in the way of each other's dreams, even though Lude just wants more money, better parties and prettier girls and I want something else. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it's drenched in sunlight and it's weightless and I know it's not cheap. Probably not even real. | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| 5f5be93 | How do we remember this emptiness so in fullness we won't forget? | Mark Z. Danielewski | ||
| e10ec5e | I was getting tired about what the preacher called Christian. Anything he did was Christian, and the people in his church believed it, too. If he stole some book he didn't like from the library, or made the radio station play only part of the day on Sunday, or took somebody off to the state poor home, he called it Christian. I never had much religious training, and I never went to Sunday school because we didn't belong to the church when I .. | John Kennedy Toole | ||
| e4aa60f | Nothing in all those "O swan" poems had ever mentioned that they hissed. Or resented being mistaken for felines. Or bit." | Connie Willis | ||
| 8d65d58 | Cyril had staked out his claim and refused to move. "Move over!" I said, freeing one hand from holding the cat to push. "Dogs are supposed to sleep at the foot of the bed." Cyril had never heard of this rule. He jammed his body up against my back and began to snore. I tugged at the rugs, trying to get enough to cover me, and turned on my side, the cat cradled in my arms. Princess Arjumand paid no attention to the regulations of animals on t.. | Connie Willis | ||
| 7eb11d9 | Any grand new dictionary ought itself to be a democratic product, a book that demonstrated the primacy of individual freedoms, of the notion that one could use words freely, as one liked, without hard and fast rules of lexical conduct. | Simon Winchester | ||
| bd0ec87 | It was a silence that heard itself, awful and beautiful. | Colum McCann | ||
| 5162cc7 | Sometimes thinking back on things is a mistake arising out of pride, but I guess you live inside a moment for years, move with it and feel it grow, and it sends out roots until it touches everything in sight. | Colum McCann |