Ned Hayes's Blog, page 108

"Write what should not be forgotten." — Isabel Allende

"Write what should not be forgotten." — Isabel Allende

"The road is a river of ice, slick and unforgiving. A harsh...

"The road is a river of ice, slick and unforgiving. A harsh sweep of white iron, smooth as glass and cold enough to freeze any uncovered inch of flesh to the surface. Hillocks and haystacks rise up, isles in a smoking brume. Here and there snow has blown aside, revealing the line of the great white stone road that slices through the hills."
— from the novel Sinful Folk

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"The sound of a distant ocean covers me with surf, that tide...

"The sound of a distant ocean covers me with surf, that tide that bears me back eternally into the past, back to the place where I was born. My mother took me out in our little fishing boat, out on the open water of the sea. The thrum and hiss of surf upon the shore behind us, the breaking rhythm never ceasing. My mother waited until we were out of sight of land…. Now, people come through the whiteness towards me, but all of them are ghosts."

— from the novel Sinful Folk

"A man’s heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn’t like a mother’s womb. It won’t bleed. It won’t..."

““A man’s heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn’t like a mother’s womb. It won’t bleed. It won’t stretch to make room for you.””

- A Thousand Splendid Suns, Khaled Hosseini (via the-readers-nook)

“Fog lifts in the valley, rising as mist through the bare limbed...

“Fog lifts in the valley, rising as mist through the bare limbed trees. Far below, the deeping combe with our village in the heart of it. My whole world for nearly a decade has been contained in that place – and now the village of Duns is so small. I hold up my hand, form a circle with my fingers. Now the distant village seems a child’s plaything that I can hold in my own hand, wreathed in gossamer mist.”

— from the novel Sinful Folk

PHOTO: frigxd: Bridalveil Fall

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“April comes to us, with her showers sweet. I wake to the cries...

“April comes to us, with her showers sweet. I wake to the cries of little birds before the light comes across the heath. They wait all night with open eyes. Now, with the rain at dawn, their voices make melody. I turn back the reveled cloth of gold on my bed and walk to gaze beyond my glazed casement window. In the plaintive voices of the wood fowl, I imagine my mother calling to me, her words echoing across the years.”

— from the novel SINFUL FOLK

PHOTO SOURCE: amarepervivere: More?

"Well-read people are less likely to be evil."

“Well-read people are less likely to be evil.”

- The Slippery Slope by Lemony Snicket  (via happinesslists)

Sinful Folk illustrator Nikki McClure's painstaking papercut...

Sinful Folk illustrator Nikki McClure's painstaking papercut process.

Love her artwork, and her fabulous cover for Sinful Folk! 

PHOTO: gathrnomoss: Papercut by Nikki McClure by LSO - The Mark Olympia on Flickr.