
Saved by Thomas Unterkircher and
The Ten Thousand Doors of January
Saved by Thomas Unterkircher and
Words and their meanings have weight in the world of matter, shaping and reshaping realities through a most ancient alchemy.
There is nothing quite like the anger of someone very powerful who has been thwarted by someone who was supposed to be weak.
It felt like donning a suit of armor or sprouting wings, extending past the boundaries of myself; it felt an awful lot like love.
Companions. See the curve of that C like a pair of outstretched arms? It implied the sort of friends who might slay dragons or go on hopeless quests or swear blood oaths at midnight.
I do not mean they have power in the sense that they might stir men’s hearts or tell stories or declare truths, for those are the powers words have in every world.
fallen women are afforded a species of freedom.
The will to be polite, to maintain civility and normalcy, is fearfully strong. I wonder sometimes how much evil is permitted to run unchecked simply because it would be rude to interrupt it.
freedom isn’t worth a single solitary shit if it isn’t shared.
I should have known: destiny is a pretty story we tell ourselves. Lurking beneath it there are only people, and the terrible choices we make.