Today's Document
Discoholic 🪩
ellievsbear
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
cherry valley forever
Jules of Nature
⁂
almost home
KIROKAZE
DEAR READER
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
NASA
if i look back, i am lost
wallacepolsom
Sade Olutola
pixel skylines
No title available
$LAYYYTER
@theartofmadeline
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seen from Brazil
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seen from Brazil
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@cronicasndore
Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisioned by the enemy, don’t we consider it his duty to escape?… If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we’re partisans of liberty, then it’s our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!
Happy birthday, Professor Tolkien! Thank you for taking me with you. (via frakkingmuggles)
The Man Who Forgot Ray Bradbury
By Neil Gaiman
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true? We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La. They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to Middle-Earth.
George R.R. Martin (via x-akurei)
Happy Dappy Bits | http://etsy.com/shop/happydappybits
My name is Jane / Janie. I was a full-time Art Director & Graphic Designer for many years before venturing off on my own (scary and exciting!). Now you can find me in my studio, rocking my favorite color purple-framed glasses occasionally sipping a cup of caffeine-free tea — with a mouse, doodling utensil, iPad or camera in hand. My love of colors and patterns, stuff that rhymes, all things cute and cheerful could not be restrained and that’s how Happy Dappy Bits came to be.
the design blog: facebook | twitter
Jia Ruana http://www.ruanjia.com/
¿Qué hacen los libros cuando nadie mira?
The Joy of Books (by crazedadman)
No escribo sobre las cosas que he visto, escribo sobre las cosas que he soñado.
Lord Dunsany
“Writers may be solitary but they also tend to flock together: they like being solitary together.”
Neil Gaiman (via nothingthings)
Posiblemente, el Bosque Crepuscular...
¿Por qué ha de torcerse tanto el destino?
¿Por qué ha de torcerse tanto el destino? Este presente, el futuro de entonces, estaba harto irreconocible. Ya nada quedaba de lo que un día imaginó a las orillas del mar. Observó más el rostro que le devolvía la mirada, como si la respuesta estuviese en algún rincón de esas pupilas. Se preguntó cuántas veces aquel hombre que luchaba a su diestra en la batalla le habría salvado la vida. —Vorondil —le susurró posando la mano en su hombro. Él le sonrió comprendiendo y entonces supo lo que debía hacer. Atravesó el corredor decidida. Podía sentir las miradas afiladas de sus guerreros. Sus valerosos Escudos Negros, aquellos hombres que jamás le habían fallado. Los únicos, ahora se daba cuenta, que habían permanecido fieles incluso en los momentos más críticos y que ahora dependían, más que nunca, de sus decisiones.
Teore. Historias Inconclusas. Täreisha: Retales del Pasado.
bibliolectors:
El libro abre caminos (ilustración de Andrew Judd)
El ruido eterno
He cometido muchos errores en mi vida, pero ninguno tan grave como ignorar el ruido eterno. La voz del viento y el rumor del agua. Los pasos de las criaturas del bosque. La caída de la lluvia. La danza del sol y las lunas. El crecimiento de los árboles. La marcha lenta de las estrellas sobre los caminos por donde reptan los años. Este es el mejor consejo que os daré: nunca le deis la espalda al palpitar de Invermond.
Teore. Alasdair el Bardo. Invermond. Tesslieth.
El cuento parece abultarle la cabeza. Le da un poco de miedo el modo en que necesita salir. Siente que, si no consigue salir a través de su mano apresurada, le hará estallar los ojos en su urgencia por escapar y convertirse en algo concreto.
It - Stephen King (via frakkingmuggles)
dreamslandscapes:
Reliquary, by Tom Bagshaw.
