“I thought of beauty as of a constant effort to eliminate corporeality. I wanted him to love my body forgetful of what one knows of bodies. Beauty, I thought anxiously, is this forgetfulness.”
― The Days of Abandonment
― The Days of Abandonment
“The thing is - fear can't hurt you any more than a dream.”
― Lord of the Flies
― Lord of the Flies
“When a boy… discovers that he is more given into introspection and consciousness of self than other boys his age, he easily falls into the error of believing it is because he is more mature than they. This was certainly a mistake in my case. Rather, it was because the other boys had no such need of understanding themselves as I had: they could be their natural selves, whereas I was to play a part, a fact that would require considerable understanding and study. So it was not my maturity but my sense of uneasiness, my uncertainty that was forcing me to gain control over my consciousness. Because such consciousness was simply a steppingstone to aberration and my present thinking was nothing but uncertain and haphazard guesswork.”
― Confessions of a Mask
― Confessions of a Mask
“Children of the future age
Reading this indignant page
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime”
―
Reading this indignant page
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime”
―
“Because I liked you better
Than suits a man to say,
It irked you, and I promised
I'd throw the thought away.
To put the world between us
We parted stiff and dry:
'Farewell,' said you, 'forget me.'
'Fare well, I will,' said I.
If e'er, where clover whitens
The dead man's knoll, you pass,
And no tall flower to meet you
Starts in the trefoiled grass,
Halt by the headstone shading
The heart you have not stirred,
And say the lad that loved you
Was one that kept his word.”
― A Shropshire Lad
Than suits a man to say,
It irked you, and I promised
I'd throw the thought away.
To put the world between us
We parted stiff and dry:
'Farewell,' said you, 'forget me.'
'Fare well, I will,' said I.
If e'er, where clover whitens
The dead man's knoll, you pass,
And no tall flower to meet you
Starts in the trefoiled grass,
Halt by the headstone shading
The heart you have not stirred,
And say the lad that loved you
Was one that kept his word.”
― A Shropshire Lad
kneerouge’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at kneerouge’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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