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“The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.”
― Palm of the Hand Stories
― Palm of the Hand Stories
“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
― The Critic As Artist: With Some Remarks on the Importance of Doing Nothing and Discussing Everything
― The Critic As Artist: With Some Remarks on the Importance of Doing Nothing and Discussing Everything
“Late night, and like a medal in the sky
The harvest moon was beaming down,
And, like a river, the solemnity
Of night arranged on the sleeping town.
- Confession”
― Les Fleurs du Mal
The harvest moon was beaming down,
And, like a river, the solemnity
Of night arranged on the sleeping town.
- Confession”
― Les Fleurs du Mal
“On wings of moonlight
Beneath the stars
Breathing time
I shall find
Your eyes
(fragment from "Beatitude", chapter Hope)”
― The odyssey of my lost thoughts
Beneath the stars
Breathing time
I shall find
Your eyes
(fragment from "Beatitude", chapter Hope)”
― The odyssey of my lost thoughts
“Soft moonlight enveloped her path, guiding her toward the gate like creamy white petals leading a bride to the altar. Walter didn't understand- she needed to be in these gardens. The beauty breathed life into her. Filled her very soul.
She pushed down the latch, testing it slowly to see if it was locked on the opposite side. Her heart leapt when it opened.
The lady left her gardens every autumn now when the flowers began to die, and Mummy didn't seem to care if she visited the gardens when the lady was gone. But in the summer, when the flowers were blooming, when the air smelled sweet and the butterflies danced in the breeze, Mummy and Walter didn't want her to explore.
Yet this was her sustenance. Her magic. She needed to be here as much as the butterflies needed their nectar to fly.
Quietly she closed the gate and hurried across the brick path until she reached the circular rose garden. In the center of the roses was the most lush carpet of grass. She tossed her shoes into the air, the soft grass tickling her toes. Then she stretched out her arms and twirled in the moonlight.
Some people thought the rays of the moon were cool, like the rays of the sun were warm, but they were wrong. The light from the moon was as warm as the sun, a lovely, golden warmth that electrified her from the inside.”
― Shadows of Ladenbrooke Manor
She pushed down the latch, testing it slowly to see if it was locked on the opposite side. Her heart leapt when it opened.
The lady left her gardens every autumn now when the flowers began to die, and Mummy didn't seem to care if she visited the gardens when the lady was gone. But in the summer, when the flowers were blooming, when the air smelled sweet and the butterflies danced in the breeze, Mummy and Walter didn't want her to explore.
Yet this was her sustenance. Her magic. She needed to be here as much as the butterflies needed their nectar to fly.
Quietly she closed the gate and hurried across the brick path until she reached the circular rose garden. In the center of the roses was the most lush carpet of grass. She tossed her shoes into the air, the soft grass tickling her toes. Then she stretched out her arms and twirled in the moonlight.
Some people thought the rays of the moon were cool, like the rays of the sun were warm, but they were wrong. The light from the moon was as warm as the sun, a lovely, golden warmth that electrified her from the inside.”
― Shadows of Ladenbrooke Manor
Ashish’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Ashish’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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