isn't it, isn't it, isn't it?
isn't it?
isn't it, isn't it, isn't it?
226 notes
·
View notes
book lovers, by emily henry
sometimes, even when you start with the last page and you think you know everything, a book finds a way to surprise you.
dedicated to @anthnybridgerton & @selwynkane ♡
1K notes
·
View notes
@fictiondaily mission 4: dyanimcs -> Achilles and Patroclus
I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me. If I had had words to speak such a thing, I would have. But there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth. As if he had heard me, he reached for my hand. I did not need to look; his fingers were etched into my memory, slender and petal-veined, strong and quick and never wrong.
“Patroclus,” he said. He was always better with words than I.
THE SONG OF ACHILLES by Madeline Miller
542 notes
·
View notes
@storyseekers event 18: 2021 debut — ace of spades by faridah àbíké-íyímídé
“i stop myself from apologizing— because what would i even be sorry for? existing too loud?”
296 notes
·
View notes
To whom did this anarchical scoffer unite himself in this phalanx of absolute minds? To the most absolute. In what manner had Enjolras subjugated him? By his ideas? No. By his character. A phenomenon which is often observable. A sceptic who adheres to a believer is as simple as the law of complementary colors. That which we lack attracts us. No one loves the light like the blind man. The dwarf adores the drum-major. The toad always has his eyes fixed on heaven. Why? In order to watch the bird in its flight. Grantaire, in whom writhed doubt, loved to watch faith soar in Enjolras. He had need of Enjolras. That chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid nature charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it, and without the idea of explaining it to himself having occurred to him.
— Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
195 notes
·
View notes
OUT OF OZ | Kristin Chenoweth & Idina Menzel
419 notes
·
View notes