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“I no longer thought about the fire under us and the endless cold above us, nor about how thin this crust is which divides the fiery porridge from outer space. I only felt that the night was dark and full of life, of snails and moths, of growing plants, and I knew that there were trout and frogs in the brook. Sometimes the frogs here croak all night long, in a great chorus.
There are bats and owls, and deer roam the neighboring forests.
The flowers have closed. From the hospital there was not a sound. All was silence.
Then a great golden tone rose through the night, and it was followed by new tones. The nightingale had begun, and now filled the world with its abnormal voice.”
― Kruttårnet
There are bats and owls, and deer roam the neighboring forests.
The flowers have closed. From the hospital there was not a sound. All was silence.
Then a great golden tone rose through the night, and it was followed by new tones. The nightingale had begun, and now filled the world with its abnormal voice.”
― Kruttårnet
“I was all a mistake! There was a black fish swimming among all those white fish and that black fish was chosen to be me. I was a sister to none of them, I was ill chance itself, I was a shark, an infant black shark. Why did you not recognize it and cut its throat? What kind of merciful father were you who never cared for me but sent me out into the world a monster? Crush me, devour me, annihilate me before it is too late! Wipe me clean...”
―
―
“The deep sea is a haunted house: a place in which things that ought not to exist move about in the darkness.”
― Our Wives Under the Sea
― Our Wives Under the Sea
“The immutable, awful quiet of a dying world.”
― The House on the Borderland
― The House on the Borderland
“A CAVE I will never, ever get out of, you said: your exact words. A cave that probably has other people in it, maybe a lot of them, and sometimes you think you can hear them around you or behind you or ahead of you, talking, crying, pounding on the walls, but you can’t be sure because the pain is making you crazy, and to be crazy is to have more noises in your head than usual. A cave that can disguise itself as a morgue, or a coroner’s office, or a courtroom, or a bedroom, or the bathroom, you said: a cave you carry around with you like a chair you have to sit in wherever you go, and, to everybody else, it just looks like a normal chair, but to you it’s the top of a slide, and every time you sit down on it you head down into the depths.”
― Devil House
― Devil House
Clavain’s 2025 Year in Books
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