Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be back together uless and until all living humans read the book. And then there are books like An Imperial Affliction, which you can't tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising you affection feels like a betrayal (c)

waterblue eyes

I take quite a lot of pride in not knowing what's cool.

Apparently the world is not a wish-granting factory.

The sun was a toddler insistently refusing to go to bed: it was past eighty thirty and still light.

While the world wasn't built for humans, we were built for the world.