speak.like.ink

adventures in literature

[speaklikeink]

And then once more he heard the trumpets. No, only one. The call was faint, faint as the echo of a seabird's cry; but Aquila's ear caught the sad, familiar notes of the call. In one of those galleys slipping seaward, somebody, in savage comment on what had happened, or merely in farewell, was sounding "Lights Out."

- The Lantern Bearers, Rosemary Sutcliff

[speaklikeink]

The light was beginning to fade; soon the beacon would be lit, and the night after it would be lit, and the night after that, and then there would be no more Rutupiae Light.

- The Lantern Bearers, Rosemary Sutcliff

[speaklikeink]

Suddenly he felt the passing moments as something that was flowering and would not flower again. Though I sit here on ten thousand other evenings, he thought, this evening will not come again. And he made an unconscious movement as though to cup it in his hands, and so keep it safe for a little longer.

- The Lantern Bearers, Rosemary Sutcliff

[speaklikeink]

Penelope Shaw and her house together were like a picture postcard from the last century. From the world that had ended when the war began.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

There was a gulf—a chasm—between the man in the pillbox and the boy in Halifax who’d sketched and scribbled things in his notebook. Even the soldier he’d been three weeks ago, on rest, standing in a barn doorway, looking out at the October rain. He’d crossed some invisible barrier. Wilfred Iven was dead.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

“I had a farm. In the mountains. Meadows. Cattle.” The deep voice dropped until Freddie could hardly hear. “Honey. Black pines, with the sun slanting in.”

Freddie said, “Well—Halifax doesn’t look like that. But we have the sea. I love the sea..."

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

Armageddon was a fire in the harbor, a box delivered on a cold day. It wasn’t one great tragedy, but ten million tiny ones, and everyone faced theirs alone.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

“Maybe this is hell,” he said, only half-joking. He supposed that in hell it didn’t matter if you were Canadian or German.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

Freddie didn’t reply. He was sketching. A little grease from lunch shone on his chin. When he turned his paper round, she could see her own face, done in knifing black lines, the tilt of her eyes, the angle of her jaw. The marks of exhaustion, the flush from the wine, the empty gaiety, her hidden, relentless fear. His damned gift, to capture what he saw. It was worse than a mirror. She didn’t say anything.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

They survived the summer, Laura had thought, hazy with wine. They’d survive the war. They would.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

That was what she got for escaping the kitchen. Tackled flat, then hauled into a séance. And yet… Mrs. Shaw had brightened with renewed hope, and the only thing waiting for Laura was that box.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

Laura Iven was sharp-faced and amber-eyed, her jaw angled, her mouth sweet, her glance satirical, a little sad. She wore a pale blue Red Cross uniform under a shabby wool coat. A knit cap, defiantly scarlet, hid tawny hair chopped short. She walked with the ghost of a brisk, supple stride, marred by the new limp.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

The doctor eyed her. “Iven, you’re a wretched color. When did you come on shift?”

“Flattery, Doctor?” she said. “I’m cultivating a modish pallor.”

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[speaklikeink]

Freddie's clothes came to Veith Street instead of Blackthorn House, and the telegram that ought to have preceded them didn't reach Laura at all.

- The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

[jeremy-knox]

Happy release day to Winter’s Orbit by Everina Maxwell!

“Pain had its uses, Jainan thought. It put things in perspective. There was something clean about the way it cut through the emotional tangles and reminded you that things could be worse.”

[catwalkninja]

Imagine for a second that Kevin Day got sent to live with his father when his mom died. Imagine a loving Exy environment, where he was firmly but gently taught the sport, to flourish into a champion without pressure or fear. Imagine a Kevin Day who never had to suffer emotionally or physically or mentally at the hands of Riko. Imagine him still meeting and falling in love with Thea, building something out of a respect of passion and will. Imagine a future where he desires to be just like the father he knew, instead of filling in the pieces of a stilted half-saved youth. That’s all. Just imagine. Try not to cry.

[catwalkninja]

how i am literally nicky hemmick:

doesn’t understand what’s going on 98% of the time but just really wants everyone to be happy

sometimes says shit without thinking it through

means well

hates fears marathons running is the devil

enjoys nature best from indoors 

“distaste for traffic laws”

mom friend 

vodka aunt

externally optimistic. internally optimistic. eternally optimistic.

becomes a smol unreasonable child over junk food “there’s protein in peanut butter!”

isn’t very good at sports. at all.

tries very hard

“you’re going to be the absolute death of me”

fairly clueless

unapologetically true to self “get this straight - i’m not”

wants to be liked.

very affected by loss/suffering

((is literally too old for this shit))

10/10 will sass authority

needs lots of encouragement and love 

likes boys

embarrassing to most family members