Em

“2. If you are one of my own Dead (and if your Spirit passes through this Vestibule and reads this paper) then I hope you already know that I visit your Niche or Plinth regularly to talk with you and bring you offerings of food and drink.

3. If you are dead – but not one of my own Dead – then please know that I travel far and wide in the World. If ever I find your remains I will bring you offerings of food and drink. If it seems to me that no one living is caring for you then I will gather up your bones and bring them to my own Halls. I will put you in good order and lay you with my own Dead. Then you will not be alone.”
― Susanna Clarke, Piranesi

“Pretty much I would let Gemma know
that she is a fat cunt
and, um the shoes that she gave me were
not something that I would particularly
buy for myself.

They were old maiden type of shoes, and
she said that those shoes were meant to
be worn on a beautiful woman

So if that is the case she should have put
them back on the rack and she should
never even purchased them because she
was UNQUALIFIED to own those shoes if
that's the case

and, um I think that Gemma is just a
disgrace. She's a disgrace to women who are
actually beautiful and classy and, um she
just doesn't have the vernacular she
thinks she possesses

Somebody lied to her several times and
told her that she was fly, hot and sexy
and beautiful and she's nothing like that
She's nothing of the sort”
― Tiffany Pollard

“This is not a foxhole.
This is the rich earth of my world.
Dirt I threw in handfuls on the coffins of troopers that came before me.
Those who stood in the ranks on the bastion wall, lasgun in hand, And told the Eye it would not have our future.

This is not a foxhole, this is my world.

This is not a foxhole, it is my home.
The place I have shared with my comrades, eating, laughing,
A hole that does not feel empty, for we fill it with light and courage,
And where I have seen them pass into the Emperor's light.

This is not a foxhole, it is my home.
This is not a foxhole, it is my fortress.
It is home, world, a kasr I have dug with my own hands

A legacy that was bequeathed to me, to meet the enemy blade first
As we have always, and I will not leave it, not surrender it
Not take one step back for I have dug my fortress, and will hold it.

For this is not a foxhole, it is a grave.”
― Robert Rath, The Fall of Cadia