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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
T.J. Klune
Read between
March 18 - March 29, 2025
He couldn’t believe it was only Wednesday. And it was made worse when he realized it was actually Tuesday.
Word.
while bloviating about the wonders of dieting.
"bloviating" is such a good word!
Calliope, a thing of evil, sat on the edge of his bed, black tail twitching as she watched him with bright green eyes. She started purring. In most cats, it would be a soothing sound. In Calliope, it indicated devious plotting involving nefarious deeds.
Sooo... cat is successfully catting.
“Are you quite finished?” a voice said near his ear. He absolutely did not scream, no matter the evidence to the contrary.
“Yes,” Ms. Bubblegum said sympathetically. “Sounds like quite the existential crisis. Perhaps consider having it somewhere else.”
Ms Bubblegum is my spirit animal.
“To put it with the rest of his hoard,” Talia said. “Something you’ll never find, so don’t even think about it. A wyvern is very protective over his hoard and will maim anyone who tries to take it from him.” She paused, considering. “It’s underneath the sofa in the living room. You should go check it out.” “But you just said— Ah. I see.” She stared innocently at him.
The characters... Love them!
Mr. Parnassus stood in front of his desk. He reached down and tapped a finger on Sal’s shoulder. He said, “The things we fear the most are often the things we should fear the least. It’s irrational, but it’s what makes us human. And if we’re able to conquer those fears, then there is nothing we’re not capable of.” Theodore chirped from the top of his desk, wings fluttering. “Theodore’s right,” Phee said, chin in her hands. “You can do it, Sal.” Chauncey’s eyes bounced. “Yeah! You got this!” “You’re made of strong stuff on the inside,” Talia said. “And it’s what’s on the inside that counts.”
...more
Lucy slays me LOL
Mr. Parnassus sat on the edge of his desk. His slacks were still too short and revealed socks that were a brightly offensive shade of orange.
He said, “I am but paper. Brittle and thin. I am held up to the sun, and it shines right through me. I get written on, and I can never be used again. These scratches are a history. They’re a story. They tell things for others to read, but they only see the words, and not what the words are written upon. I am but paper, and though there are many like me, none are exactly the same. I am parched parchment. I have lines. I have holes. Get me wet, and I melt. Light me on fire, and I burn. Take me in hardened hands, and I crumple. I tear. I am but paper. Brittle and thin.”
Ah, Sal, you sweet, sad thing.
“There’s music everywhere, Mr. Baker. You just have to learn to listen for it.”
He didn’t know if anyone would actually find it, if it would actually make it across the channel. And even if they did find it, they’d probably ignore it. That almost didn’t matter. LEAVE. WE DON’T WANT YOUR KIND HERE, one side of the parchment said. NO, THANK YOU, the other side said.
Such a polite mic-drop
It didn’t matter that Mr. Parnassus didn’t appear to own a pair of slacks that actually fit his long legs, given that they were always too short. Today he wore blue socks with clouds on them. Linus refused to be charmed. He mostly succeeded.
Heeeeeee!
Linus felt his throat clog slightly at the sight of the dashing figure Arthur cut in his own ensemble. Instead of tan like the others, his pants and shirt were black, with a red sash across his chest. There was what appeared to be a machete in a scabbard at his waist. He had a mustache like Lucy’s, though it looked far less ridiculous on him. It wiggled slightly as Arthur smiled at him. Linus flushed and looked away. He was suddenly very warm. A warm, round egg with pale limbs.
Linus is delightfully smitten and I am living for it.
“Maybe we could all be villains,” Chauncey warbled. “You don’t know how to be bad,” Talia told him. “You’re too nice.” “No! I can be bad! Watch!” His eyes pivoted wildly until they landed on Linus. “Mr. Baker! I won’t do your laundry next week! Ha ha ha!” Then, in a panicky voice, he whispered, “I’m just kidding. I will. Please let me. Don’t take that away.”
Aww, Chauncey :3
The bravery of the children was unmatched. They followed him, but at a good fifteen paces behind him, all huddled together, eyes wide. Linus absolutely did not feel fond at the sight of them.
LIAR!
And though it trembled, Sal’s smile was warm and bright.
This. Whole. Scene.
“We all have our issues. I have a spare tire around my middle. His father is Satan. Nothing that can’t be worked out if we try hard enough.”
Mr Baker, you big old softie!
A herd of charging, heavily pregnant rhinoceroses would have been quieter than the children were at that moment.
Linus shook his head. “I could never be mad at you. Not for this. If I sound angry, it’s at this … this man, not you.” “Oh. Because you like me, huh?” Yes. God help him, yes. Very much so. All of them, really. “Something like that.”
“And apparently that includes cleaning up after men throwing their snits. Honestly. For all their bluster, I’ve noticed that men melt so very easily. Little snowflakes, they are.”
Yes. Yes, they are, Helen.
The sky and the sea were cerulean.
TITITULAR PHRASE!
Whatever you hoped to find in the rubble you left behind on that island makes no difference to me. I know what they’ve become. I’ve seen the heart of all of them, and it beats tremendously despite everything they’ve gone through, either by your hand, or others.”
“I am but paper. Brittle and thin. I am held up to the sun, and it shines right through me. I get written on, and I can never be used again. These scratches are a history. They’re a story. They tell things for others to read, but they only see the words, and not what the words are written upon. I am but paper, and though there are many like me, none are exactly the same. I am parched parchment. I have lines. I have holes. Get me wet, and I melt. Light me on fire, and I burn. Take me in hardened hands, and I crumple. I tear. I am but paper. Brittle and thin.”
I think I saved this one twice. WORTH IT.
