#winter

Winter is coming. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#mottos #winter #games

Nothing burns like the cold. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#cold #winter #games

Then I made a stupid mistake and looked up at him. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, his face was open and vulnerable in the moonlight. I caught a hint of wonder there as we stared at each other. Slowly, he leaned forward. I caught my breath, a tiny gasp escaping. He stiffened, and his expression shuttered closed, eyes going hard and frosty. [...] 'This is getting old,' he said in a voice that matched his eyes. ↗

— Julie Kagawa

#vulnerability #winter-prince #mistakes

Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#summer #winter #childhood

Nothing is as tedious as the limping days, When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways, And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom, Assumes control of fate’s immortal loom ↗

— Charles Baudelaire

#winter #paris

Kenapa harus takut gelap kalau ada banyak hal indah yang hanya bisa dilihat sewaktu gelap? -Nishimura Kazuto ↗

— Ilana Tan

#winter

Don't be amazed if you see my eyes always wandering. In fact, this is my way of reading, and it is only in this way that reading proves fruitful to me. If a book truly interests me, I cannot follow it for more than a few lines before my mind, having seized on a thought that the text suggests to it, or a feeling, or a question, or an image, goes off on a tangent and springs from thought to thought, from image to image, in an itinerary of reasonings and fantasies that I feel the need to pursue to the end, moving away from the book until I have lost sight of it. The stimulus of reading is indispensable to me, and of meaty reading, even if, of every book, I manage to read no more than a few pages. But those few pages already enclose for me whole universes, which I can never exhaust. ↗

— Italo Calvino

#calvino #if #italo #night #on

I could have lied. I could have fought. But desperate times call for desperate measures, so I took a chance and called upon a Gallagher Girl's weapon of last resort. I flirted ↗

— Ally Carter

#flirt #gallagher-girls #preston-winters #winter

I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ↗

— T.S. Eliot

#winter #winter

Annabelle’s eyes stung as she stared at him, while need and inexhaustible tenderness gathered like an ache in her body. “I realized something,” she said huskily, “when I was standing outside the foundry, watching it burn and knowing you were inside.” She swallowed hard against the thickness in her throat. “I would rather have died in your arms, Simon, than face a lifetime without you. All those endless years… all those winters, summers… a hundred seasons of wanting you and never having you. Growing old, while you stayed eternally young in my memories.” She bit her lip and shook her head, while her eyes flooded. “I was wrong when I told you that I didn’t know where I belonged. I do. With you, Simon. Nothing matters except being with you. You’re stuck with me forever, and I’ll never listen when you tell me to go.” She managed a tremulous smile. “So you may as well stop complaining and resign yourself to it. ↗

— Lisa Kleypas

#hunt #simon #wallflower #winter