#home

I look for my sister but it's hopeless. The goggles are all fogged up. Every fish burns lantern-bright, and I can't tell the living from the dead. It's all just blurry light, light smeared like some celestial fingerprint all over the rocks and the reef and the sunken garbage. Olivia could be everywhere. ↗

— Karen Russell

#home

Me & my fellow fairies are running away from a huge monster that keeps destroying our home land,sobbed Farina. The monster is terribly scary,has huge jaws, creates clouds of smoke & makes loads of noise everywhere it goes. ↗

— Magda M. Olchawska

#children-books #fairies #illustrated-books #kids #kids-books

When I was seventeen I found a man, or maybe he found me. Away from home for the first time, out of reach of my father’s archaic restrictions and my mother’s culinary insistence, I cut off my hair, dropped my Christian name, wore black and toyed with anorexia, passing incognito among the city workers, just another ant in that vast heap. ↗

— Nell Grey

#objects-of-desire #short-story-collection #solstice #home

Overhead, the glass envelope of the Insomnia Balloon is malfunctioning. It blinks on and off at arrhythmic intervals, making the world go gray:black, gray:black. In the distance, a knot of twisted trees flashes like cerebral circuitry. ↗

— Karen Russell

#sleep-disorders #home

If you ask me, houses shouldn't have been built down here. These little block-long streets cease abruptly at the open space that remains on the side of the hill, and the hill is angry that development has crept so close. It whips these pathetic homes with a battering, constant wind. It sends soggy clouds to sit damply atop the roofs, trickling stagnant moisture, birthing deep green molds. It sends its monsters, the horrifying Jerusalem crickets, up from the soil to invade basement apartments, looking like greasy, translucent alien insects. They drive me crying into the bathroom to strategize their eviction from my home. ↗

— Michelle Tea

#san-francisco #home

As an artist, a man has no home in Europe save in Paris. ↗

— Friedrich Nietzsche

#home

Of course, you know how it is when a stray cat follows you home; once they adopt you, there's just no getting rid of them. ↗

— Cheryl Brooks

#home

Charity didn't mean to waste the entire afternoon. But her favorite daytime drama was on the telly. It was always the same, she thought, stretching out on the bed to watch. The sex got her interested first, and then the story. Before long she was totally hooked, and deep into the intricate plots and the glamorous goings-on. And afterwards, she just felt drained. She was sound asleep by the time Lady Margaret came home. ↗

— Elizabeth Jane Howard

#soap-operas #home

History consists of a corpus ascertained facts. The facts are available to the historian in documents, inscriptions and so on, like fish in the fishmonger's slab. The historian collects them, takes them home, and cooks and serves them in whatever style appeals to him. ↗

— Edward Hallett Carr

#home

Demons," drawled the blond boy, tracing the word on the air with his finger. "Religiously defined as hell's denizens, the servants of Satan, but understood here, for the purposes of the Clave, to be any malevolent spirit whose origin is outside our own home dimension - ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#jace #home