Came across this quote in Dracula:
"I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one at the coming of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide. They say that people who are near death die generally at the change to the dawn or at the turn of the tide; any one who has when tired, and tied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe it."
And I think it's the first time I've seen anyone mention the unsettling feeling that comes over me when the sun comes up. It's that shiver, exhaustion, and excitement all at once. A quiver in the gut and a cold sweat. How have I lived all 24 years of my life and only NOW heard someone else mention that feeling? I was so sure I was alone in the sensation. And to read about the sensation from a horror story over a hundred years old!
Does anyone else get the feeling?
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I’m so sorry but in the nicest way possible do yall actually read books or just read words??? Cause I’ve been seeing that trend of people not understanding how “snarled” and “eyes darkened” and “eyes softened” etc. was used in a book and like…
Genuinely, do yall just not have imagination?? Or not understand figurative language??? Also eyes do literally darken and soften have you not lived a life??? How do you read with no imagination? Is this how you get through so many books in one month - you simply don’t take the time the understand the words as they are read?
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Random writing thought: the best stories are often the ones that only you could have written — but also the ones that you could only write at this one moment.
I couldn't write All the Birds in the Sky from scratch now if I tried. But the me of 2013 couldn't have written The Prodigal Mother either.
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Remember Hind. Remember Reem. Remember all the little boys and girls who are more than mere numbers. They are dreams, humanity's innocence, and most importantly they are not to be forgotten.
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Good books can make you homesick for places you have never been.
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Fuck all love letters except whatever Cardan Greenbriar had going on when he wrote “my heart is buried with you in the strange soil of the mortal world, as it was drowned with you in the cold waters of the undersea. it was yours before i could admit it, and yours it shall ever remain”
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