#blooming twig

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Quietly, like a shadow, I watch this drama unfold scene by scene. I am the lucid one here, the dangerous one, and nobody suspects.

Marie Vieux-Chauvet, Love, Anger, Madness: A Haitian Triptych

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It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hadn’t been invented yet. But clouds massing east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one.

Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, Good Omens

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With a strength born of the decision that had just come to her in the middle of the night, Avery Johnson forced the suitcase shut on the clothes piled inside and slid the lock in place.

Paule Marshall, Praisesong for the Widow

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Into the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the shifty, hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to talk French.

PG Wodehouse, The Luck of the Bodkins

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Everyone had always said that John would be a preacher when he grew up, just like his father. It had been said so often that John, without ever thinking about it, had come to believe it himself.

James Baldwin, Go Tell It On the Mountain

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Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress.

George Eliot, Middlemarch

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Black funeral dress. Black heels, Black headband in my hair. Death has a style all its own. I'm glad I don't have to wear it very often.

Courtney C. Stevens, Faking Normal

[booksthatmatter]

I walk to the bus station by myself.

Rainbow Rowell, Carry On