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"i last read this eleven years ago, in spring of 2013, and decided that I hated jane austen’s writing, it was boring and opaque and overly flowery and the characters were indistinguishable from one another. coming to realise that i’m genuinely enjoying reading it second time around was a shock and also proof that my brain hadn’t fully developed if i thought this was a really difficult read" — Apr 25, 2024 01:44PM
"i last read this eleven years ago, in spring of 2013, and decided that I hated jane austen’s writing, it was boring and opaque and overly flowery and the characters were indistinguishable from one another. coming to realise that i’m genuinely enjoying reading it second time around was a shock and also proof that my brain hadn’t fully developed if i thought this was a really difficult read" — Apr 25, 2024 01:44PM
“A day of dappled seaborne clouds.
The phrase and the day and the scene harmonised in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the greyfringed fleece of clouds. No, it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language manycoloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?”
― A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
The phrase and the day and the scene harmonised in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the greyfringed fleece of clouds. No, it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language manycoloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?”
― A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
“Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.”
― Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid
― Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid
“A good library will never be too neat, or too dusty, because somebody will always be in it, taking books off the shelves and staying up late reading them.”
― Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid
― Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid
“25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying 'Where is the flaming sword that was given unto thee?'
26 And the Angel said, 'I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.'
27 And the Lord did not ask him again.”
― Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch
26 And the Angel said, 'I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.'
27 And the Lord did not ask him again.”
― Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch
caitlin’s 2025 Year in Books
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