Julie > Recent Status Updates

I don't know much about the IRA & the Troubles but it's all very interesting.

Idk I feel like if you're a space horror and the first death happens at 60% something's wrong.

Surprised it's actually under 300 pgs long :0

4 books short and 4 days left in 2017 😂 can i make it?

I AM 15 PAGES IN AND SCREAMING

"It was an autumn of gray skies and yellow leaves, of sudden rain and unexpected shafts of livid sunlight."

i've never thought of the many ways you can go about describing the weather but this books has them in spades

"The blinding afternoon sunlight gave way to honey-gold, and at last to amber and rust. A faint half moon showed just above the line of pale yellow sky."

got through half of this in one night and i'm really liking it :'( let's see if i can finish it this week

"Don't torture me till I'm as mad as yourself," pg. 142

i'm taking the longest time reading this, it's good but it's TORTURE

i've been sick this past week :/ and i still am... but not a sick as these characters... zing

mean of me, but lockwood's predicament is so funny

Yes I know I'm being slow with this one but it's very... meditative....

"It was like being in an elevator cut loose at the top. Falling, falling, and not knowing when you will hit."

i finished Ajax and i'm pleasantly surprised? i found it very engaging and at times, even funny, despite it being a tragedy. the dialogue is superb.

i'm very wary of books "for fans of Umberto Eco" but ok...

well i just finished a Dumas so i hunted down the other Dumas-related book i owned

this is so bad. it's like a weirdly convoluted lupin iii plot. i don't even believe detective conan would make something like this lol

where is mr thornton oh my god

oh god i started so many books this month but i barely finished any

you know what, i am SO CLOSE to finishing this book but like??? where are the anne/wentworth interactions??

You can have a silence full of words. A lute retains, in its bowl, the notes it has played. A viol, in its strings, holds a concord. A shriveled petal can hold its scent, a prayer can rattle with curses; an empty house, when the owners have gone out, can still be loud with ghosts.

Henry says, "Do what you have to do. I will back you."

It's like hearing words you've waited all your life to hear. It's like hearing a perfect line of poetry, in a language you knew before you were born.

Suppose within every book there is another book, and within every letter on every page another volume constantly unfolding; but these volumes take no space on the desk. Suppose knowledge could be reduced to a quintessence, held within a picture, a sign, held within a place which is no place. Suppose the human skull were to become capacious, spaces opening inside it, humming chambers like beehives.

The scholar's lips move, like the lips of a monk at vespers; liquid figures spill from his pen.

The red of a carpet's ground, the flush of the robin's breast or the chaffinch, the red of a wax seal or the heart of a rose: implanted in his landscape, cered in his inner eye, and caught in the glint of a ruby, in the color of blood, the cardinal is alive and speaking. Look at my face: I am not afraid of any man alive.