February 2012
68 posts
Neil Gaiman: On Writing. (A bit long. Sorry.) →
neil-gaiman:
I got up this morning, and read the thirty or so questions that people had left in the last 8 hours. And apart from the few that wanted to tell me that, honestly, there’s nothing in the whole world like a photo of a gentleman holding a small yellow chainsaw, most of the rest of them were writing…
Personal note: This is indeed a little longish, but it’s also one of the...
“http://eatsleepdraw.com/ have blogged my little red riding hood submission. It’s...”
– (via —wasteland) Sorry to trouble you, but I saw your lovely submission to eatsleepdraw of Little Red and wondered what type of pens and markers you had used to accomplish it.
actias luna
m3zzaluna:
once, when i was young, an old man told me the moon was made of moths. that’s why it rises, he said, and falls, and why sometimes pieces disappear, flying off to pollinate the stars.
— thedustdancestoo
4 tags
4 tags
That moment when you finish a book, look around, and realize that everyone is just carrying on with their lives as though you didn’t just experience emotional trauma at the hands of a paperback.
How do I language?
Playing around with learning (extremely) elementary Farsi on Rosetta Stone. What languages do you speak/read/comprehend? My own? English, French, and a year’s worth of Attic Greek. Small doses of Spanish as well. And this doesn’t really count, but I’ve got some basic phrases in Turkish. Your turn.
“As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the...”
– W.H. Auden, “As I Walked Out One Evening” (via literaturesluts)
