My heart is a ship-wreck sinking, sinking, sinking. An abandoned house with cracked windows; left to feel frozen in the snow.
November 2011
“Second hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.”
—Virginia Woolf
“I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. You can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. I shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand a word you say, but I shall still be your affectionate Godfather, C. S. Lewis.”
— C.S. Lewis
A secret girl named Augustine wrapped courage in brown parcel paper and twine. I think she meant to mail it to me, in a schooner made from glass, but the war came and everything turned to dust: dust fell from her eyelashes, slowly and steadily risen and lowered; and the sea turned to dust, it tasted like under-the-bed darkness; the rain was dust, too - it sounded like a soft footfall on the stairs.
“The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to.”
—Carl Sandburg
“Time is the longest distance between two places.”
—Tennessee Williams
