The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story.

The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story.
People who deny the existence of dragons are often eaten by dragons. From within.
For a word to be spoken, there must be silence. Before, and after.
bear mood.
autumn moves.
forest king.
#watercolor #bear #ursine
#ursula
If civilization has an opposite, it is war.
You can go home again, the General Temporal Theory asserts, so long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been.
We broke the world to make it whole...
No man, no power, can bind the action of wizardry or still the words of power. For they are the very words of Making, and one who could silence them could unmake the world.
You are all in jail. Each alone, solitary, with a heap of what he owns. You live in prison, die in prison. It is all I can see in your eyes â the walls, the walls!
My soul is ten thousand miles wide and extremely invisibly deep. It is the same size as the sea, and you cannot, you cannot cram it into beer cans and fingernails and stake it out in lots and own it. It will drown you all and never even notice.
Time is not duration but intensity; time is the beat and the interval [...]
The thing about working with time, instead of against it, he thought, is that it is not wasted. Even pain counts.
WE DEMAND THAT EUROPEAN LEADERS BAN TABACCO
FROM EUROPE.
THIS IS THE FIRST THINK
YOU SHOULD DO AFTER 2026 SUMMER!
SMOKE JUST DESTROY THE HEALTH OF YOUTH IN EUROPE!
STOP SELLING THIS CRAP. NOW !
#Roberta #Metsola
#Ursula #VonderLeyen
#European #Parliament
#European #Commission
#European #Council
The use of imaginative fiction is to deepen your understanding of your world, and your fellow men, and your own feelings, and your destiny.
Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting.
When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow.
In our loss and fear we craved the acts of religion, the ceremonies that allow us to admit our helplessness, our dependence on the great forces we do not understand.
At this point, realism is perhaps the least adequate means of understanding or portraying the incredible realities of our existence.
Nothing said in words ever came out quite even. Things in words got twisted and ran together, instead of staying straight and fitting together.