#castle

I was always fascinated, even as a child, by antiques and ancient times. I always felt I should have been born in the 17th or 18th century. They really had a big stone castle with authentic furniture. ↗

— Margaret O'Brien

#always #ancient #ancient times #antiques #authentic

... but Charlie had seen love and prise flare in the brown eyes, burning away every trace of sadness and timidity. Rose Petch, she knew, would never abandon her child the way Charlie's mother had abandoned her. ... Charlie stood, trembling, torn nearly in two by jealousy and longing ... ↗

— Ellen Renner

#ellen-renner #jealousy

It was all right to be sad. It was all right to lament. It was all right to feel anger. But [is] not all right to run away. ↗

— Miyuki Miyabe

#anger

Often, half in a bay of the mountains and half on a headland, a small and nearly amphibian Schloss mouldered in the failing light among the geese and the elder-bushes and the apple trees. Dank walls rose between towers that were topped with cones of moulting shingle. Weeds throve in every cranny. Moss mottled the walls. Fissures branched like forked lightning across damp masonry which the rusting iron clamps tried to hold together, and buttresses of brick shored up the perilously leaning walls. The mountains, delaying sunrise and hastening dusk, must have halved again the short winter days. Those buildings looked too forlorn for habitation. But, in tiny, creeper-smothered windows, a faint light would show at dusk. Who lived in those stone-flagged rooms where the sun never came? Immured in those six-foot-thick walls, overgrown outside with the conquering ivy and within by genealogical trees all moulting with mildew? My thoughts flew at once to solitary figures…a windowed descendant of a lady-in-waiting at the court of Charlemagne, alone with the Sacred Heart and her beads, or a family of wax-pale barons, recklessly inbred; bachelors with walrus moustaches, bent double with rheumatism, shuddering from room to room and coughing among their lurchers, while their cleft palates called to each other down corridors that were all but pitch dark. ↗

— Patrick Leigh Fermor

#family

After that, he tried to go upstairs through the broom cupboard, and then the yard. This seemed to puzzle him a little. But finally he discovered the stairs, all except the bottom on, and fell up them on his face. The whole castle shook. ↗

— Diana Wynne Jones

#howl #howl-s-moving-castle #humor #magic #sophie-hatter

Another strike of lightening – now accompanied by the deep-bellied rumble, and the horse reared, incidentally setting Henry very picturesquely against the inconstant moon. Alas, Catherine was deeply engaged in her argument with Old Edric and this missed entirely the melodramatic display. But we may assume that, possessing so strong an imagination, Catherine had often pictured Henry thus... ↗

— Emily C.A. Snyder

#jane-austen #nachtsturm-castle #northanger-abbey #imagination

If you look at Newcastle or Gateshead, even over twenty years, even with the previous administration, it has moved quite remarkably in transforming itself. ↗

— John Prescott

#even #itself #look #moved #newcastle

You go down some street - no doubt it's there, and we have to do something about it, and our programmes are designed to do that - but if that's a picture of Newcastle, it's not the one I recognise and I bet none in the North East do either. ↗

— John Prescott

#bet #designed #doubt #down #east

I just look at it, as it's something that I had to do. I had this vision that really, Graceland is suited for a king and it is his castle. And people really should see it, as he loved it. ↗

— Priscilla Presley

#had #his #i #just #king

Yes, your home is your castle, but it is also your identity and your possibility to be open to others. ↗

— David Soul

#castle #home #identity #open #others