#d

I worried I would miss it, and I knew, from losing Wyatt, that things happen the moment the soul is released. Wyatt had been there in the school, watching me, making sure I survived. Souls linger…they do. They linger a bit before they turn toward eternity. It could be that no matter how perfect their future will be, the past still tugs for a moment. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#artist #creativity #death #dying #glass-girl

Do you know how hard it is to paint kindness?” She leaned her hip against a desk in the corner of the room, still watching me. “It’s the only part of a person I really want to capture. Everything else seems to get lost in layers of deception or defensiveness. But not kindness. You can’t hide it. And people either are or they aren’t. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#artist #dating #glass-girl #high-school #kindness

Beware. Those with the least amount of authority exercise it the most often. ↗

— Peggy Kopman-Owens

#adventure #mystery #suspense #travel #art

When you paint late at night, drinking beer or wine or both, you gotta be very careful to watch what you are doing... ↗

— Hiroko Sakai

#artist #drinking #funny #humorous #night

The film is the first art form capable of demonstrating how matter plays tricks on man. ↗

— Walter Benjamin

#deception #film #art

I hate gossips. I really do. I often wonder where they get the time and effort they put into either digging or fabricating so called *facts* about others. But these ridiculous creatures are a prime example of how the self-communal can try to injure and diminish the self-that-is. Now you know where the home of the self esteem is. It is not merely within the self. It is within the self-that-is. It is not within the self in relation. This can never hold true. Any sense of self estimation you get from the communal can never hold essentially true. ↗

— Dew Platt

#psychological #home

What art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee Benvolio, look upon thy death. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#death #tybalt #art

take a salad of pills and hit the floor ↗

— Pat Smith

#outsider-art #art

Blaise decided that the thing he would remember most about this London was the sour stink of it. The overripe foulness of the streets made him gag, and when a woman emptied a chamber pot from a top window, nearly catching him in its spray, he bent over and wretched, much to the Nightsneaks' amusement. ↗

— Teresa Flavin

#history #london #middle-grade-fantasy #art

When a beautiful blonde asks, you don't say no. ↗

— V.T. Davy

#channel #crime #detective #hard-boiled #islands