Now hear me. Before the end, you will pluck snowdrops at midwinter, die by your own choosing, and weep for a nightingale. | The Bear and The Nightingale, Katherine Arden
She remembered how to kill and how to hate, but she’d forgotten how to grow.
person in charge of the music at my funeral: *plays a boring song*
me: *opens my coffin* turn that shit off did you all just ignore the spotify playlist i left at the bottom of my will?
He took a long sip of his drink, tipped his back against the couch, and decided he could live with that.
read in 2017 → vicious by v.e. schwab
he lifted his glass. “to never dying.” eli lifted his. “to being remembered.” their glasses clinked as eli added, “forever.”
books read in 2k17. shades of london series by maureen johnson
“fear can’t hurt you,” she said. “when it washes over you, give it no power. it’s a snake with no venom. remember that. that knowledge can save you”
FAVORITE BOOKS ★ uprooted, naomi novik
there was a song in this forest, too, but it was a savage song, whispering of madness and tearing and rage.
He and Eli were bonded, by blood and death and science. They were alike, more so now than ever. And he had missed Eli. He wanted to see him. And he wanted to see him suffer. He wanted to see the look in Eli’s eyes when he lit them up with pain. He wanted his attention.
cherry blossoms
One count, two count, three count. Nothing. And then, somewhere between Victor giving up and reaching for his phone, ELI GASPED.
The Bear and the Nightingale - Katherine Arden
“Hope may be the thing that pulls you forward, may be the thing that keeps you going, but that it’s dangerous, that it’s painful and risky, that it’s making a dare in the world and when has the world ever let us win a dare?”
literature posters; chaos walking series by patrick ness
Uprooted: Sarkan
“Flowers were blooming everywhere: flowers I had never seen, strange blooms dangling and others with sharp points, brilliantly colored, and the room was thick with their fragrance, with the smell of crushed leaves and pungent herbs.”
READ IN 2017 → Wintersong by S. Jae-Jones
“The power of a wish. In the world above, wishes were will-o’-the-wisps: beautiful, but unsubstantial and always just out of reach. Here in the Underground, will-o’-the-wisps were very much real.”
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