‘This filthy neighbourhood we live in is like a prison cell where men act as its iron bars, preventing women from escaping. Come to think of it, the women here seem fine; it’s only me […]
‘Some demon of the deep is stirring in its sleep, bellowing its grief through the thick layers of water that press it down and chain it to the bottom of the sea.’ ~ Sabina Lungeanu, Hiraeth This wonderfully poetic gothic... Read More ›
But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st: So long as men can breathe or eyes... Read More ›
‘…she rather needs keeping down than bringing forward; and then I think, monsieur—it appears to me that ambition, LITERARY ambition especially, is not a feeling to be cherished in the mind of a woman: would not Mdlle. Henri be much... Read More ›