Philip Chun

“Joseph found a gnarled piece of branch that resembled a sword and wielded the weapon before him, slaying bears and mountain lions as he went, severing limbs and skewering heads, so that his father who followed could walk in safety.”
― Pamela Korgemagi, The Hunter and the Old Woman

“The world is a more interesting place than I had ever imagined when I came to that first Midnight Dinner. Is that because Miss Bowen can animate a solid wooden creature on a carousel or because you could manipulate my memory, or because the circus itself pushed the boundaries of what I dreamed was possible, even before I entertained the thought of actual magic? I cannot say. But I would not trade it for anything.”
― Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus

“You could put your arm around me, you know,' she said matter-of-factly. 'We are walking in the gardens, alone. In the moonlight, such as it is.' Denna looked sideways at me, the side of her mouth quirking upward. 'Such things are permitted, you realize.'

Her sudden change in manner caught me off my guard. Since we had met in Severen I had courted her with wild, hopeless pageantry, and she had matched me without missing a beat. Each flattery, each witticism, each piece of playful banter she returned to me, not in an echo but a harmony. Our back-and-forth had been like a duet.

But this was different. Her tone was less playful and more plain. It was so sudden a change that I was at a loss for words.

'Four days ago I turned my foot on that loose flagstone,' she said softly. 'Remember? We were walking on Mincet Lane. My foot slipped and you caught me almost before I knew that I was stumbling. It made me wonder how closely you must be watching me to see something like that.'

We turned a corner in the path, and Denna continued to speak without looking up at me. Her voice was soft and musing, almost as if she were talking to herself. 'You had your hands on me then, sure as anything, steadying me. You almost had your arm around me. It would have been so easy for you then. A matter of inches. But when I got my feet beneath me, you took your hands away. No hesitation. No lingering. Nothing I might take amiss.'

She started to turn her face to me, then stopped and looked down again. 'It’s quite a thing,' she said. 'There are so many men, all endlessly attempting to sweep me off my feet. And there is one of you, trying just the opposite. Making sure my feet are firm beneath me, lest I fall.'

Almost shyly, she reached out. 'When I move to take your arm, you accept it easily. You even lay your hand on mine, as if to keep it there.' She explained my movement exactly as I was making it, and I fought to keep the gesture from becoming suddenly awkward. 'But that’s all. You never presume. You never push. Do you know how strange that is to me?'

We looked at each other for a moment, there, in the silent moonlight garden. I could feel the heat of her standing close to me, her hand clinging to my arm.

Inexperienced as I was with women, even I could read this cue. I tried to think of what to say, but I could only wonder at her lips. How could they be so red as this? Even the selas was dark in the faint moonlight. How were her lips so red?”
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear

“A University degree, four books, and hundreds of articles and I still make mistakes when reading. You wrote me 'good morning' and I read it as 'I love you'.”
― Mahmoud Darwish