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""More to the point, have you accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as your personal savior?" "No," Rydell said, "I haven't." "That's good," she said, turning down the propane ring. "That's one thing I can't tolerate. Raised by 'em."
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭" — Jun 16, 2026 12:25PM
""More to the point, have you accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as your personal savior?" "No," Rydell said, "I haven't." "That's good," she said, turning down the propane ring. "That's one thing I can't tolerate. Raised by 'em."
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭" — Jun 16, 2026 12:25PM
“Faithfulness! I must analyse it some day. The passion for property is in it. There are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that others might pick them up.”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
“But these were days of self-fulfillment, where settling for something that was not quite your first choice of a life seemed weak-willed and ignoble. Somewhere, surrendering to what seemed to be your fate had changed from being dignified to being a sign of your own cowardice. There were times when the pressure to achieve happiness felt almost oppressive, as if happiness were something that everyone should and could attain, and that any sort of compromise in its pursuit was somehow your fault.”
― A Little Life
― A Little Life
“She thought of the boy's features as an exquisite distillation out of random patterns-endless queues of happenstance meeting at this nexus.”
― Dune
― Dune
“I’m agnostopagan.” The Keeper cocks his head questioningly. “Spiritual but not religious,” Zachary clarifies. He doesn’t say what he is thinking, which is that his church is held-breath story listening and late-night-concert ear-ringing rapture and perfect-boss fight-button pressing. That his religion is buried in the silence of freshly fallen snow, in a carefully crafted cocktail, in between the pages of a book somewhere after the beginning but before the ending.”
― The Starless Sea
― The Starless Sea
“Music had stirred him like that. Music had troubled him many times. But music was not articulate. It was not a new world, but rather another chaos, that it created in us. Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words?”
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
― The Picture of Dorian Gray
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