“I dreamed a dream of angels. I saw them and heard them in a great and endless galactic night. I saw the lights that were these angels, flying here and there, in streaks of irresistible brilliance . . . I felt love around me in this vast and seamless realm of sound and light . . . And something akin to sadness swept me up and mingled my very essence with the voices who sang, because the voices were singing of me.”
“Isn’t it odd how much fatter a book gets when you’ve read it several times?” Mo had said…“As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells…and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower…both strange and familiar.”
“A smart man makes a mistake, learns from it, and never makes that mistake again. But a wise man finds a smart man and learns from him how to avoid the mistake altogether.” - Roy H. Williams
NOW this is the Law of the Jungle — as old and as true as the sky; And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die. For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.
“But here in the special night, a land bricked with paper and leather, anything might happen, always did. Listen! and you heard ten thousand people screaming so high only dogs feathered their ears. A million folk ran toting cannons, sharpening guillotines; Chinese, four abreast, marched on forever. Invisible, silent, yes, but Jim and Will had the gift of ears and noses as well as the gift of tongues. This was a factory of spices from far countries. Here alien deserts slumbered. Up front was the desk where the nice old lady, Miss Watriss, purple-stamped your books, but down off away were Tibet and Antarctica, the Congo. There went Miss Wills, the other librarian, through Outer Mongolia, calmly toting fragments of Peiping and Yokohama and the Celebes. Way down the third book corridor, an oldish man whispered his broom along in the dark, mounding the fallen…” Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury
Thornmouth?
Edit: Just caught up after a crazy first week of school and realized this was probably unnecessary but still a good quote! Sorry folks!
So I am totally late on this one but I wanted to share a quote that reminds me of Gossmere
“He stood among a crowd at Drumahair; his heart all hung upon a silken dress, and he had known at last some tenderness”
It’s a quote from W.B. Yeats poem The Man Who Dreamed of Faeryland, which is a personal favorite.
(I actually plan on incorporating it into my future Gossmere tattoo)