Sign in with Facebook
“Then he said: don't you know? I am trying to make you great.
And I said: I do not want to be great, I want to be loved.”
―
And I said: I do not want to be great, I want to be loved.”
―
“They created a strange tableau: rabid boy, trapped girl, bombed-out building. It suggested a tale that could only end in tragedy. Star-crossed lovers meeting their fate. A revenge story turned in on itself. A war saga that took no prisoners.”
― The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
― The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
“She feels that even she doesn’t know what her family are like, that she’s never adequate in her attempts to describe them, that she oscillates between exaggerating their behaviour, which makes her feel guilty, or downplaying it, which also makes her feel guilty, but a different guilt, more inwardly directed.”
― Normal People
― Normal People
“At midnight when they all cheered Happy New Year, Connell took Marianne into his arms and kissed her. She could feel, like a physical pressure on her skin, that the others were watching them. Maybe people hadn’t really believed it until then, or else a morbid fascination still lingered over something that had once been scandalous. Maybe they were just curious to observe the chemistry between two people who, over the course of several years, apparently could not leave one another alone.”
― Normal People
― Normal People
“In Summation
A poem by Taylor Swift
At this hearing
I stand before my fellow members of the Tortured Poets Department
With a summary of my findings
A debrief, a detailed rewinding
For the purpose of warning
For the sake of reminding
As you might all unfortunately recall
I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity
Which explains my plea here today of temporary i n s a n i t y
You see, the pendulum swings
Oh, the chaos it brings
Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things
Lovers spend years denying what’s ill fated
Resentment rotting away
galaxies we created
Stars placed and glued
meticulously by hand
next to the ceiling fan
Tried wishing on comets.
Tried dimming the shine.
Tried to orbit his planet.
Some stars never align.
And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky
Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues
Then a crash from the skylight bursting through
Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new
And so I was out of the oven
and into the microwave
Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave
How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower
Swinging a sword he could barely lift
But loneliness struck at that fateful hour
Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips
He never even scratched the surface of me.
None of them did.
“In summation, it was not a love affair!”
I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk
It was a mutual manic phase.
It was self harm.
It was house and then cardiac arrest.
A smirk creeps onto this poet’s face
Because it’s the worst men that I write best.
And so I enter into evidence
My tarnished coat of arms
My muses, acquired like bruises
My talismans and charms
The tick, tick, tick of love bombs
My veins of pitch black ink
All’s fair in love and poetry
Sincerely,
The Chairman
of The Tortured Poets Department”
―
A poem by Taylor Swift
At this hearing
I stand before my fellow members of the Tortured Poets Department
With a summary of my findings
A debrief, a detailed rewinding
For the purpose of warning
For the sake of reminding
As you might all unfortunately recall
I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity
Which explains my plea here today of temporary i n s a n i t y
You see, the pendulum swings
Oh, the chaos it brings
Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things
Lovers spend years denying what’s ill fated
Resentment rotting away
galaxies we created
Stars placed and glued
meticulously by hand
next to the ceiling fan
Tried wishing on comets.
Tried dimming the shine.
Tried to orbit his planet.
Some stars never align.
And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky
Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues
Then a crash from the skylight bursting through
Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new
And so I was out of the oven
and into the microwave
Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave
How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower
Swinging a sword he could barely lift
But loneliness struck at that fateful hour
Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips
He never even scratched the surface of me.
None of them did.
“In summation, it was not a love affair!”
I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk
It was a mutual manic phase.
It was self harm.
It was house and then cardiac arrest.
A smirk creeps onto this poet’s face
Because it’s the worst men that I write best.
And so I enter into evidence
My tarnished coat of arms
My muses, acquired like bruises
My talismans and charms
The tick, tick, tick of love bombs
My veins of pitch black ink
All’s fair in love and poetry
Sincerely,
The Chairman
of The Tortured Poets Department”
―
Mal’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Mal’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
Favorite Genres
Polls voted on by Mal
Lists liked by Mal
