#tales

But she never could keep it straight. All the letters, the acronyms, the codes, the colors, changing like musical chairs, every week, every month. Games demons play. It meant nothing to her, except in a charming sort of way, as it had when Naganya wanted to play at interrogation, while the rest of them wanted chess. ↗

— Catherynne M. Valente

#soviet-union #change

Now fairy stories are at risk too, like the forests. Padraic Column has suggested that artificial lighting dealt them a mortal wound: when people could read and be productive after dark, something fundamental changed, and there was no longer need or space for the ancient oral tradition. The stories were often confined to books, which makes the text static, and they were handed over to children. ↗

— Sara Maitland

#forest #nature #change

Khattam-Shud,' he said slowly, 'is the Arch-Enemy of all Stories, even of language itself. He is the Prince of Silence and the Foe of Speech. And because everything ends, because dreams end, stories end, life ends, at the finish of everything we use his name. "It's finished," we tell one another, "it's over. Khattam-Shud: The End. ↗

— Salman Rushdie

#fairytales #stories #dreams

Two forces create eternity – a fairy tale and a dream from the fairy tale. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#dream #dreams #fairy-tale #fairy-tales #literature

For most of human history, 'literature,' both fiction and poetry, has been narrated, not written — heard, not read. So fairy tales, folk tales, stories from the oral tradition, are all of them the most vital connection we have with the imaginations of the ordinary men and women whose labor created our world. ↗

— Angela Carter

#folk-tales #imagination

I'll tell you a secret. Old storytellers never die. They disappear into their own story. ↗

— Vera Nazarian

#stories #story #storyteller #storytelling #tale

I love the night passionately. I love it as I love my country, or my mistress, with an instinctive, deep, and unshakeable love. I love it with all my senses: I love to see it, I love to breathe it in, I love to open my ears to its silence, I love my whole body to be caressed by its blackness. Skylarks sing in the sunshine, the blue sky, the warm air, in the fresh morning light. The owl flies by night, a dark shadow passing through the darkness; he hoots his sinister, quivering hoot, as though he delights in the intoxicating black immensity of space. ↗

— Guy de Maupassant

#constantine #from #helen #paris #tales

The wise old fairy tales never were so silly as to say that the prince and the princess lived peacefully ever afterwards. The fairy tales said that the prince and princess lived happily ever afterwards; and so they did. They lived happily, although it is very likely that from time to time they threw the furniture at each other. ↗

— G.K. Chesterton

#happiness #marriage #prince #princess #marriage

I turned on my heel and left the building. With only £4.76 in the bank, and my subscription to ‘Men Only’ due, things were looking bleak. Seeing that Keith Moore had apparently purloined Sting’s money, though at this time, he had not been yet convicted of the offence, it seemed to me that he was a better bet for a loan than Sting was. ↗

— James Berryman

#gordon-sumner #james-berryman #jim-berryman #mirage-publishing #rockstar-sting

I don't feel any shame I won't apologize if there ain't nowhere you can go running away from pain when you've been victimized tales from another broken home. ↗

— Billie Joe Armstrong

#green-day #jesus-of-suburbia #music #tales-of-another-broken-home #music