You never forget. It must be somewhere inside you. Even if the brain has forgotten, perhaps the teeth remember. Or the fingers. — Neil Gaiman, from “A Lunar Labyrinth,” Trigger Warning: Short Fictions and Disturbances. ( William Morrow February 3, 2015)
It is not good for man to cherish a solitary ambition. Unless there be those around him, by whose example he may regulate himself, his thoughts, desires, and hopes will become extravagant, and he the semblance, perhaps the reality, of a madman. ― Nathaniel Hawthorne, from “The Prophetic Pictures,” Twice-Told Tales. (Palala Press September 21,… Continue reading Nathaniel Hawthorne
Death is a capricious thing. – Neil Gaiman, The Sandman #13. “The Doll’s House, Part 4: Men of Good Fortune” (Vertigo March 1990)
Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul. ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray. (Modern Library; Modern Library edition June 1, 1998) Originally published June 20th 1890.
She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness. It is the feet of clay that make the gold of the image precious. ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray. (Modern Library; Modern Library edition June 1, 1998) Originally published June 20th 1890.
I miss you. I love you. There’s no second I’ve lived you can’t call your own. — Mark Danielewski, House of Leaves. (Pantheon, Random House March 7, 2000)
Her kiss is the deep ocean. Her kiss is not the deep ocean. Her kiss is the grey sky. Her kiss is a blind alley. Her kiss is her touch is her breath is her fingers is what remains after the laughing is over. Her kis is the black dog that follows you in the… Continue reading Neil Gaiman