chapters net

love is what we have, against time and death, against all the powers ranged to crush us down.

I would live alone for fifty years to have one day with you.

i am nothing in my soul if not obsessive.

the rapt pupil will be forgiven for assuming the Tsar of Death to be wicked and the Tsar of Life to be virtuous. let the truth be told: there is no virtue anywhere. life is sly and unscrupulous, a blackguard, wolfish, severe. in service to itself, it will commit any offense. so, too, is death possessed of infinite strategies and a gaunt nature- but also mercy, also grace and tenderness. In his own country, death can be kind.

this question is why did you risk yourself and why aren’t you crying and why aren’t you shaking and all the questions that really boil down to what the fuck is your damage, nora?

Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid

SOMETHING WILDER by Christina Lauren ★★★★★

cardan grins at me as though we've been great friends all our lives. i forgot how charming he can be--and how dangerous that is.

"you're so hateful." "i learned at your feet."

but i was still lying and I knew it. i lie to myself all the time. but i never believe me.

“The horror genre never dies. It just keeps getting re­invented and it always will. Horror is a universal language; we're all afraid. We're born afraid, we're all afraid of things: death, disfigurement, loss of a loved one. Everything that I'm afraid of, you're afraid of and vice versa. So everybody feels fear and suspense.” —John Carpenter

Mr Capaldi believed there was nothing special inside Josie that couldn’t be continued. He told the Mother he’d searched and searched and found nothing like that. But I believe now he was searching in the wrong place. There was something very special, but it wasn’t inside Josie. It was inside those who loved her.

it's an album about the push and pull of stability and instability. it’s about the struggle that I live almost every day to not do something stupid. is it about love? yeah, of course it is. but that’s because it’s easy to disguise almost anything as a love song.

He would be Cabeswater's hands and Cabeswater's eyes, but he wouldn't be Cabeswater. He would be Adam Parrish.

Maybe they were monsters who liked the feeling of another monster looking back at them.

poor adder’s daughter, so lonely in her dark heart. no, dustfinger was wrong. violante loved nothing and no one, not even herself.