Julia

“His departure gave Catherine the first experimental conviction that a loss may be sometimes a gain.”
― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

“It was not effortlessly. It tore me apart, but the poison has bled out.”
― Silvia Moreno-Garcia, The Beautiful Ones

“A tale begun in other days,
When summer suns were glowing—
A simple chime, that served to time
The rhythm of your rowing—
Whose echoes live in memory yet,
Though envious years would say 'forget.”
― Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There

“The sidewalks were haunted by dust
ghosts all night as the furnace wind summoned them up,
swung them about, and gentled them down in a warm spice on
the lawns. Trees, shaken by the footsteps of late-night strol-
lers, sifted avalanches of dust. From midnight on, it seemed a
volcano beyond the town was showering red-hot ashes every-
where, crusting slumberless night watchmen and irritable
dogs. Each house was a yellow attic smoldering with spon-
taneous combustion at three in the morning.

Dawn, then, was a time where things changed element for
element. Air ran like hot spring waters nowhere, with no
sound. The lake was a quantity of steam very still and deep
over valleys of fish and sand held baking under its serene
vapors. Tar was poured licorice in the streets, red bricks were
brass and gold, roof tops were paved with bronze. The high-
tension wires were lightning held forever, blazing, a threat
above the unslept houses.
The cicadas sang louder and yet louder.
The sun did not rise, it overflowed.”
― Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine