â Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win. â
â Stephen King
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@wordxflirt
â Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win. â
â Stephen King
â Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hitâem; but remember itâs a sin to kill a mockingbird. â
â Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
â When you spend so long trapped in darkness, you find that the darkness begins to stare back. â
Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury
â And then something invisible snapped inside her, and that which had come together commenced to fall apart. â
â John Green, Looking For Alaska
â How was it possible that the sun was rising now in the middle of my midnight? â
â Stephenie Meyer, Midnight Sun
â Iâm an artist, Emma. These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you. â
â Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight
â There is the heat of love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the loverâs whisper, irresistibleâ magic to make the sanest man go mad. â
â Homer, The Iliad
â Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. â
â Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
â He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none. â
â Madeline Miller, Circe
â Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only. â
â Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles.
I hate it when people expect me to be on my best behaviour all the time. Bitch, I was up late crying over a book character and I have a million assignments to submit. I'm not in the mood to listen to you or give validation
When you finally find a good name for the book youâre writing and you just sit there to go âoh my god Yasssâ
Can you please reblog if your blog is a safe place for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, asexual, aromantic, pansexual, non binary, demisexual or any other kind of queer or questioning people? Because mine is.
How the past few days have been, seen through some highly specific memes:
In conclusion:
Writing is hard and I'm bout to bash my face in.
When you write an amazing line and canât tell if youâre a genius or just accidentally plagiarized it from a book you read seven years ago:
Me: *starts writing the âecsâ in âecstasyâ* wait that doesnât sound right Me: But⊠How would I spell it otherwiseâŠ? Me: *finishes writing it* *the spellcheck doesnât seem to pick up on it* Me: *Googles it to make sure thatâs how you spell it* *it is* Me: ⊠Still doesnât sound right