“We were always surrounded by books and words and poetry, all the fierce passions of the world bound in leather and vellum.” M.L.Rio
Had a productive day at the library today and feeling uncharacteristically good about myself at the moment.
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I honestly think that crying over a book is one of the most prominent sign of compassion for humanity. You’re crying over someone who isn’t really there, doesn’t really exist, but you still feel for them as if you have known them your entire life.
All the people who have read Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan le Fanu can you please share your thoughts on the mother figure of Carmilla who keeps convincing men to keep her daughter while she chills for a bit? Is she a vampire too? What’s her story??
life goals: have the office that every grandfather seems to have in movies. you know, the ones with the large oak desks and bookshelves covered in old books that’s being gently soaking in golden light from large windows behind the desk. also the cool red velvet chair that’s behind the desk. that’s the goal.
I judge how good a book is based on how disoriented I am with my physical surroundings after closing it.
There are three things I need in a book to make me obsess over it for years on end:
1. Pretentious, self-destructive characters
2. Homoerotic subtext that isn’t really subtext
3. Murder
