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Assassin of Reality
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"I’m still trying to wrap my mind around how 15 years passed in the town but her and her classmates are all the same. Like huh." 2 hours, 38 min ago

 
The Serpent's Bride
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by Kathryn Ann Kingsley (Goodreads Author)
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"Oh damn… he has some unresolved family issues 😭 I am almost certain him feeling “the spare” will play a part in the plot, hopefully." 10 hours, 25 min ago

 
A Court of Mist a...
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by Sarah J. Maas (Goodreads Author)
read in May 2016
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  (page 306 of 626)
Oct 10, 2024 10:19PM

 
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Cassandra Clare
“You think angels are gentle," said Julian, "they are anything but. They bring justice in blood and heavenly fire. They take vengeance with fists and iron. Their glory is such it would burn out your eyes if you looked at them. It is a cold and brutal glory.”
Cassandra Clare, Lord of Shadows

Leah Raeder
“Girls love each other like animals. There is something ferocious and unself-conscious about it. We don't guard ourselves like we do with boys. No one trains us to shield our hearts from each other. With girls, it's total vulnerability from the beginning. Our skin is bare and soft. We love with claws and teeth and the blood is just proof of how much. It's feral.

And it's relentless.”
Leah Raeder, Black Iris

SenLinYu
“If he's a monster, then I'm his creator. What did you think was the source of all his rage?”
SenLinYu, Manacled

Hélène Cixous
“For us, eating and being eaten belong to the terrible secret of love. We love only the person we can eat. The person we hate we ‘can’t swallow.’ That one makes us vomit. Even our friends are inedible. If we were asked to dig into our friend’s flesh we would be disgusted. The person we love we dream only of eating. That is, we slide down that razor’s edge of ambivalence.
The story of torment itself is a very beautiful one. Because loving is wanting and being able to eat up and yet to stop at the boundary. And there, at the tiniest beat between springing and stopping, in rushes fear. The spring is already in mid-air. The heart stops. The heart takes off again. Everything in love is oriented towards this absorption.

At the same time real love is a don’t-touch, yet still an almost-touching. Tact itself: a phantom touching.

Eat me up, my love, or else I’m going to eat you up.

Fear of eating, fear of the edible, fear on the part of the one of them who feels loved, desired, who wants to be loved, desired, who desires to be desired, who knows there is no greater proof of love than the other’s appetite, who is dying to be eaten up, who says or doesn’t say, but who signifies: I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow. And yet manage it so as to keep me alive. But I often turn about or compromise, because I know that you won’t eat me up, in the end, and I urge you: bite me.

Sign my death with your teeth”
Hélène Cixous, Stigmata: Escaping Texts
tags: love

Leigh Bardugo
“What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.”
Leigh Bardugo, Siege and Storm

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