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![範馬刃牙 1 [Hanma Baki 1] - Baki, Son of Ogre, Vol. 1 by Keisuke Itagaki](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1419149503l/23794890._SY75_.jpg "範馬刃牙 1 [Hanma Baki 1] - Baki, Son of Ogre, Vol. 1 by Keisuke Itagaki")
![ダンジョン飯 1 [Dungeon Meshi 1] by Ryoko Kui](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1452880800l/28574253._SX50_.jpg "ダンジョン飯 1 [Dungeon Meshi 1] by Ryoko Kui")
“And the will therein lieth, which dieth not. Who knoweth the mysteries of the will, with its vigor? For God is but a great will pervading all things by nature of its intentness. Man doth not yield himself to the angels, nor unto death utterly, save only through the weakness of his feeble will.”
―
―
“I am like a small creature swallowed whole by a monster, she thought, and the monster feels my tiny little movements inside.”
― The Haunting of Hill House
― The Haunting of Hill House
“the houses described in Leviticus as ‘leprous,’ tsaraas, or Homer’s phrase for the underworld: aidao domos, the house of Hades; I need not remind you, I think, that the concept of certain houses as unclean or forbidden—perhaps sacred—is as old as the mind of man.”
― The Haunting of Hill House
― The Haunting of Hill House
“Pleasure was pain there, and vice versa. And he knew it well enough to call it home.”
― The Hellbound Heart
― The Hellbound Heart
“But see, amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out- out are the lights- out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"
And its hero the Conqueror Worm.”
―
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out- out are the lights- out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"
And its hero the Conqueror Worm.”
―
tran’s 2025 Year in Books
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