#city

There's a reason for every journey, and mine was prompted by boredom and the recklessness of youth, by a wish to break the bounds of my normal existence and familiarise myself with life and the world at large. ↗

— Walter Moers

#the-city-of-dreaming-books #walter-moers #dreams

Weirdism is definitely the cornerstone of many an artist's career. ↗

— E.A. Bucchianeri

#artist #artists #artists-life #arts-and-humanities #artsy

That weekend the city blushed with a great heat wave but on Monday it rained, cooling the ache in the street’s burn. ↗

— Daniel Amory

#city #downtown #dream #heat #hot

Really good literature is seldom appreciated in its own day. The best authors die poor, the bad ones make money - it's always been like that. ↗

— Walter Moers

#the-city-of-dreaming-books #walter-moers #dreams

He grinned. It was a wicked grin, the kind that made the blood in Clary's veins run a little faster. "You want to go on a date?" Caught off guard, she stammered. "A wh-what?" "A date," Jace repeated. "Often 'a boring thing you have to memorize in history class,' but in this case, 'an offering of an evening of blisteringly white-hot romance with yours truly." "Really?" Clary was not sure what to make of this. "Blisteringly white-hot?" "It's me," said Jace. "Watching me play Scrabble is enough to make most women swoon. Imagine if I actually put in some effort. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#clary-fray #date #jace #repartee #dating

But there was nothing. No village or town as far as her eyes could strain. Nowhere for her saviours to come from and take her to; just fields and trees and the weeping arc of the river Greave all the way to the horizon. Just like in the books, Greaveburn was all there was; building and building until streets were foundations, roofs were floors, constantly climbing away from itself. now that Abrasia saw it, her dream of escape crumbled completely like an ancient map in her fingers. The horizon was the world's edge and there was nothing beyond it but mist and falling. Greaveburn stood alone on this little circle of earth, the river running around and into itself like a snake eating its tail. And Abrasia was doomed to watch the sun and stars trade places for all eternity. ↗

— Craig Hallam

#city #gothic #greave #greaveburn #river

I have always been taught to be proud of being Latina, proud of being Mexican, and I was. I was probably more proud of being a "label" than of being a human being, that's the way most of us were taught. ↗

— Erin Gruwell

#labels #perspective #pride #race #freedom

She realized all at once that Doon, thin, dark eyed Doon, with his troublesome temper and his terrible brown jacket, and his good heart---- was the person she knew better than anyone now. He was her best friend. --City of Ember-- ↗

— Jeanne DuPrau

#city-of-ember #friendship #good-heart #jeanne-duprau #sweet

We two make banquets of the plainest fare In every cup we find the thrill of pleasure... For us life always moves with lilting measure We two, we two, we make our world, our pleasure ↗

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox

#harmony #love #perfection #pleasure #simplicity

The interior life is often stupid. Its egoism blinds it and deafens it; its imagination spins out ignorant tales, fascinated. It fancies that the western wind blows on the Self, and leaves fall at the feet of the Self for a reason, and people are watching. A mind risks real ignorance for the sometimes paltry prize of an imagination enriched. The trick of reason is to get the imagination to seize the actual world—if only from time to time. ↗

— Annie Dillard

#imagination #interior-life #self #imagination