My everything blog. From personal to anything I feel like blogging.
I'm just me. Whatever that is these days.
I am 29, a Floridian, and often a bad speller.
If I unfollow or choose not to follow, please, don't take it personal. Though there is a huge chance I will follow back.
Looking for my weight loss blog? Click on the Weight Loss Blog page.
I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein. (via riverran)
And the next time someone starts claiming that teenage girls have ruined the horror genre with romance or whatever you can be like, hey dicksmack, teenage girls and romance built your genre so sit the fuck down.
We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!
You and I, Sam, are still stuck in the worst places of the story, and it is all too likely that some will say at this point: ‘Shut the book now, dad; we don’t want to read any more.
First year: “I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”
Seventh year: “Imagine losing fingernails, Harry! That really puts our sufferings into perspective, doesn’t it?”
Fine,” snapped Mrs. Weasley. “Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him [Ron]. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh.
Hermes gazed up at the stars. ‘My dear young cousin, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the eons, it’s that you can’t give up on your family, no matter how tempting they make it. It doesn’t matter if they hate you, or embarrass you, or simply don’t appreciate your genius for inventing the Internet—
In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.
There are no faster or firmer friendships than those formed between people who love the same books.
But that is another story and shall be told another time.
There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.
A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.