We are unutterably alone, essentially, especially in the things most intimate and most important to us.—Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet (translated by Joan Marie Burnham)
December Book Photo Challenge: Favorite Series (Dec. 02)
- A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin
The function, the very serious function, of racism is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining, over and over again, your reason for being. Somebody says you have no language, so you spend twenty years proving that you do. Somebody says your head isn’t shaped properly, so you have scientists working on the fact that it is. Somebody says you have no art, so you dredge that up. Somebody says you have no kingdoms, so you dredge that up. None of that is necessary. There will always be one more thing.
(H/T The Anti-Intellect Blog)
I finally found my perfect reading spot.
We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world.
So I just finished reading the first six books of the imaginarium Geographica series, and I was wondering if you know any place where I can find an ePub of the last book? (It's called The First Dragon) thanks! (from stuckinsidethesnogbox)
I don’t know but I hope people here could help you!
December Book Photo Challenge: Best Cliffhanger (Dec. 09)
"Will we return by the Skirling Pass?" Jon asked her.He did not know if he could face those heights again, or if his garron could survive a second crossing. "No," she said. "There’s nothing behind us." The look she gave him was sad. "By now, Mance is well down the Milkwater, marching on your Wall."
- A Clash Of Kings by George R.R. Martin
The Book Depository customers design the best bookmarks.
Exeter, september 2012.
My collection of Stephen King books. I wish I bought more of the minimalist cover editions before they were discontinued. :(
Don’t wish for tomorrow.
You’re wishing your life away.
Nevertheless, I wish
for tomorrow. In all its finery.
I want sleep to come and go, smoothly.
Like passing out of the door of one car
Into another. And then to wake up!
Find tomorrow in my bedroom.
I’m more tired now than I can say.
Raymond Carver, Tomorrow
This is Charlotte Brontë’s earliest known effort at writing, a short story written for her sister Anne, the baby of the family. It it also the first of the little books made by the Brontë children and, as such, it does not reach the level of technical sophistication that they were later to achieve. The writing is a clumsy longhand, there is no title page or contents list and no attempt is made to imitate magazine format.