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Cat

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Cat’s Bookshelves

to-read‎ (536)
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read‎ (335)
did-not-finish‎ (0)
graphic-novels‎ (32)

picturebooks‎ (30)
lgbtq‎ (22)
non-fiction‎ (17)
books-in-translation‎ (14)
australian‎ (10)

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group-read‎ (10)
italian‎ (10)
roadtrip-reads‎ (7)
dnf‎ (6)

poetry‎ (4)
re-read‎ (1)
short-stories‎ (1)

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“There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone. There is an off-focus light cast by the moon, and the streetlights are part of the spotlight apparatus on a bare stage set up for you to walk through. You get a feeling of being listened to, so you talk aloud, softly, to see how it sounds.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

188 likes

“Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and leading to the most outre results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable.”
― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

tags: baker-street, chains-of-events, commonplaces-of-existence, cross-purposes, fiction, on-fiction, outre-results, plannings, sherlock-holmes, stale, strange-coincidences, unprofitable

765 likes

“It felt like being a child again, though it was not. Being a child is like nothing. It's only being. Later, when we think about it, we make it into youth.”
― China Miéville, Embassytown

tags: childhood, memory, youth

91 likes

“I want for my words to be
touched gently,
as if you had never seen my sort of dialect before,
as if you never wanted to read anyone else
again.”
― Shinji Moon, The Anatomy of Being

33 likes

“There was a girl who used to hide behind the moon with her legs bent against it like tiny fishhooks, as if she were the only thing keeping all that grey from tilting on it’s orbit and grazing against the skin of the Earth. The stars left tiny burn marks on her skin that sizzled when she touched them so that she sounded like raindrops in summer when she walked. The stars fell on her back so often it wore away in the shape of a fin. She bathed in the white moonlight and it made her skin more pale so her eyes looked wider. Her eyes were so wide that she could take much more in as she watched earth like the clouds over it were stage curtains being drawn back. Ta-da-do-rah! And then at the end the people cried and their tears fell from the earth and into the craters making pools for her fishhook legs to catch their stories in. One letter at a time falling away into the velvet black backdrop curtain before she could hold them. And the people sighed, mouths all open wide, people always cry at endings.”
― Kelsey Ipsen, The Dust Book

7 likes

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