Luke

“God! Whose hand was I holding?”
― Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House

“There is a vast melancholy in the canticles of the wolves, melancholy infinite as the forest, endless as these long nights of winter and yet that ghastly sadness, that mourning for their own, irremediable appetites, can never move the heart for not one phrase in it hints at the possibility of redemption; grace could not come to the world from its own despair, only through some external mediator, so that, sometimes, the beast will look as if he half welcomes the knife that despatches him.”
― Angela Carter, The Company of Wolves

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness.”
― Oscar Wilde

“People are masks, with masks under those masks, and masks under those, and down you go.”
― David Mitchell, Slade House