Life is short.

Your Digital Satisfaction from Books and Motion Pictures.

[paperparasites]

One of my favorite novel. Brilliant. Genius. Fun. No further caption needed.

[paperparasites]

[paperparasites]

His chapters are my favorite but I don't always reckon he won't get hurt.

[paperparasites]

What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger.

Words for the Drowned God of House Greyjoy / Clash of Kings, George R.R Martin

[paperparasites]

I took a shot of something that caught my eye in the bathroom of a restaurant I've been into a while ago. Something to ponder. // Carpe Diem

[paperparasites]

"In ancient books of Asshai it is written that there will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him.”

Clash of Kings, George R.R Martin

[paperparasites]

[paperparasites]

More wine?

[paperparasites]

Books are the ultimate Dumpees: put them down and they’ll wait for you forever; pay attention to them and they always love you back.

An Abundance of Katherines, John Green

[paperparasites]

It rather goes without saying that Katherine drank her coffee black. Katherines do, generally. They like their coffee like they like their ex-boyfriends: bitter.

An Abundance of Katherines, John Green

[paperparasites]

"The morning after noted child prodigy Colin Singleton graduated from high school and got dumped for the nineteenth time by a girl named Katherine, he took a bath..."

[paperparasites]

Grey Wind, Lady, Nymeria, Summer, Shaggydog, Ghost

[paperparasites]

So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.

Looking for Alaska, John Green

[imisshowitwasbefore]

[paperparasites]

     I looked at the clock and groggily muttered, “It’s seven thirty-six.”      “No Pudge. It’s party time! we’ve only got seven days left before everyone comes back. Oh God, I can’t even tell you how nice it is to have you here. Last Thanksgiving, I spent the whole time constructing one massive candle using the wax from all my little candles. God, it was boring. I counted the ceiling tiles. Sixty-seven down, eighty-four across. Talk about suffering! Absolute torture.”       “I’m really tired. I--” I said, and then she cut me off.       “Poor Pudge. Oh, poor poor Pudge. Do you want me to climb into bed with you and cuddle?”       “Well, if you’re offering--”       “NO! UP! NOW!”

---John Green, Looking For Alaska