“Witch. The word slithers from the mouth like a serpent, drips from the tongue as thick and black as tar. We never thought of ourselves as witches, my mother and I. For this was a word invented by men, a word that brings power to those that speak it, not those that it describes. A word that builds gallows and pyres, turns breathing women into corpses.”
― Weyward
― Weyward
“What Am I to Write?
What am I to write for you?
Blank page,
White emptiness,
Broken words are not enough
Nor spluttered ink spat out in ignorance,
Contemptuous of its desire to mark
And maim,
Indulges so at first,
And then again.
But No
I will not take to mediocre ways,
Nor overplay the passion song in muse,
For the heart well tuned
Needs not the head
To pump its life,
And the arteries awakened to the rhythm,
Subtle rhythm,
Should suffice.”
― In Retrospect
What am I to write for you?
Blank page,
White emptiness,
Broken words are not enough
Nor spluttered ink spat out in ignorance,
Contemptuous of its desire to mark
And maim,
Indulges so at first,
And then again.
But No
I will not take to mediocre ways,
Nor overplay the passion song in muse,
For the heart well tuned
Needs not the head
To pump its life,
And the arteries awakened to the rhythm,
Subtle rhythm,
Should suffice.”
― In Retrospect
“Man of the Sea
For the woman I see
Who stands by the rock,
And the tree,
Who put meaning and measure and might
Into all things
For me,
Who taught songs of the earth
And showed me the places of light,
Who then put the 'Orb' in my hand,
And bade me the Final Goodnight.
・・・・・
No man ever born
Could make courage to riseth
Like She,
This spirit that dwells
And excels,
And is living, through me.”
― In Retrospect
For the woman I see
Who stands by the rock,
And the tree,
Who put meaning and measure and might
Into all things
For me,
Who taught songs of the earth
And showed me the places of light,
Who then put the 'Orb' in my hand,
And bade me the Final Goodnight.
・・・・・
No man ever born
Could make courage to riseth
Like She,
This spirit that dwells
And excels,
And is living, through me.”
― In Retrospect
“I don't deny that he was good. A man to be admired in a play–grand, with an iron will... But such men turn their wives and daughters into slaves. They would rule the world if they could; but not ruling the world, they throw all the weight of their will on the necks and souls of women. But nature sometimes thwarts them. My father had no other child than his daughter, and she was like himself.”
― Daniel Deronda
― Daniel Deronda
“I hate myself. I hate this world;
And I long now only to quit it,
But tell me, oh God, where my place is,
In the new world, or don’t I fit in it?”
― Poetical Works
And I long now only to quit it,
But tell me, oh God, where my place is,
In the new world, or don’t I fit in it?”
― Poetical Works
Tegan’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Tegan’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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