Eat me, drink me; thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden, I go back and back to him to have his fingers strip the tattered skin away and clothe me in his dress of water, this garment that drenches me, its slithering odour, its capacity for drowning. ― Angela Carter, The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories (Vintage, January 1,… Continue reading Angela Carter
“The summer stretched out the daylight as if on a rack. Each moment was drawn out until its anatomy collapsed. Time broke down. The day progressed in an endless sequence of dead moments.” ― China Miéville, Perdido Street Station (Macmillian; 1ST edition, January 1, 2001)
“You,” he said, “are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain. ― Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls (The Asylum Emporium; 2nd edition, January 1, 2011)
When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn’t make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares still walking. When we hold each other we feel not safe, but better. “It’s all right” we whisper, “I’m here, I love you.” and we lie: “I’ll never leave you.” For… Continue reading Neil Gaiman
Like a wind crying endlessly through the universe, Time carries away the names and the deeds of conquerors and commoners alike. And all that we were, all that remains, is in the memories of those who cared we came this way for a brief moment. ― Harlan Ellison
I live in a well. I live like smoke in the well. Like vapor in a stone throat. I don’t move. I don’t do anything but wait. Overhead I see the cold stars of night and morning, and I see the sun. And sometimes I sing old songs of this world when it was young.… Continue reading Ray Bradbury
For love is no part of the dreamworld. Love belongs to Desire, and Desire is always cruel. ― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 2: The Doll’s House. (Vertigo; Gph edition. March 10, 1999) Originally published June 1st 1990.
There’s no conscious thing on the face of the world that doesn’t know dread more intimately than its own heartbeat. ― Clive Barker, Books of Blood: Volume Two. (Berkley Books September 1986)
Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping… waiting… and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir… open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us… guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love… the clarity of… Continue reading Joss Whedon
I, too, can create desolation. — Mary Shelley, Frankenstein. Published 1818 (Lackington, Hughes, Harding, Mavor & Jones)
The Vale of Soul-Making 