B.L

“Aren’t gods normally off in some god space doing important things?”


All of her [Vorgaine’s] eyes blink at once and it is revolting and oh my Her I’m going to be sick. “I breathed this world into life, Wyatt. What could be more important than living within it?”
― H.E. Edgmon, The Fae Keeper

“Hate can build an empire, but all empires fall.” -Vorgaine”
― H.E. Edgmon, The Fae Keeper

“A pearl, a tear,
a drop of sky
the Weaver spins a net
so fine, unseen
until the breath,
the sigh,
the veil of night
reaches across all known things”
― Tamara Rendell, Mystical Tides

“The memory of human blood manifests now as a kind of visceral reaction to seeing people's veins and their necks. The skin on a neck appears to me as different from the skin anywhere else on a body. It seems as thin and consumable as rice paper wrapped around a sweet. It is too blank compared with skin everywhere else, as though it is asking to have marks made on it, like very expensive calligraphy paper, or cold-pressed Fabriano. Often, I wonder whether the urge I have to make art is the same as the urge to consume and destroy the blankness of a human neck. While at art college, I read that the best paper used by artists in the seventeenth century was made from the skins of lamb fetuses. This skin was soft and absorbent, and had an even texture right across its surface. For a long time, the process of creating art has been linked to the killing of living things. My dad, even, used fine silk stretched across wooden frames in his own work as a painter. Once, when we still had some of his pieces, I looked at the odd geometric shapes he created on a huge sheet and thought about all the silkworms who had had their cocoons torn open before they were able to become moths.”
― Claire Kohda, Woman, Eating