#quotable

[nando161mando]

"Famine is a useful word when you do not wish to use words like 'genocide' and 'extermination'."

- Frank O'Connor, Irish author.

[nedlittle]

[nodding head, taking notes] translation is not a hot dog so true emily wilson

[id in alt text]

[takingstockofwhatmattersmost]

She...

touches her own skin as if tracing

...a memory

that might still ache

[versedvices]

does anyone else get that bittersweet feeling when you see someone living the life you dreamt and yearn for? That it feels like clawing your own heart out and swallowing the vomit of blood just to calm yourself down. Like is it jealousy or yearning?

or is it just me?

[lakisfourouklas-blog]

There's truth and beauty in nature,

there's agony and tenderness in nurture.

Kindness in both.

Lakis

[ongawdclub]

[i-indigo]

But you're young, there's time.

For you, there is always time;

I don't mind you taking all of mine.

Macrocosm

[not-a-nice-man-to-know]

"The price of loving someone very much is never loving anyone again."

- Fyodor Dostoevsky

[ijustkindalikebooks]

“She read books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live.” ― Annie Dillard, The Living.

[harf-e-kun]

"Log Bure Logon se Darte Hain, Mujhe Achchhe Logon se Darr Lagta Hai, Ilm Walon se Darr Lagta hai, Sabr Walon se Darr Lagta Hai, Sakhawat Walon se, Zarf Walon se Darr Lagta Hai, Muhabbat ki Mezbani se Darr Lagta Hai, Bilawajah Jo Aapse Muhabbat Kare, Bahut Darr Lagta Hai"

- Dr. Arfa Sayeda Zehra

[nando161mando]

'Like many debunked ideas, hygiene theory and the myth of the bored immune system have become entrenched. A couple of years ago, hygiene theory got repackaged as "immunity debt." Now Americans, Canadians, and many Europeans think they need to get sick to stay healthy. The elites have absolutely no problem with that. It saves them countless billions to let everyone continue thinking they're better off letting diseases run around in their cells.

So:

Your immune system doesn't work like a muscle. It doesn't get stronger the more it's exposed to different harmful germs.

It doesn't need practice.

...

Think of it like this:

Your body already knows how to heal its skin and bones. You don't have to teach it how to do that by cutting yourself or breaking your arm.

As it happens, many westerners also think bones grow back stronger after they're broken and scar tissue is tougher than normal skin.

That's also false.

Scar tissue remains functionally deficient in many ways compared to uninjured skin. Broken bones form a temporary calcium callus that's stronger than ordinary bone, but it's eventually replaced.

These misguided ideas fit in a culture obsessed with tough love, the idea that abusing someone somehow builds their character. And while it might make you interesting, it's certainly not "good" for you.'

— Jessica Wildfire

[a-drabble-a-day]

Prompt #29

Quotable (Use a popular quote from a speaker and use it as inspiration for your writing)

~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

身在无间,心在桃源

Body in abyss, heart in paradise

Xie Lian heaved the large wooden sign up the final step, with Hua Cheng supporting it from below. Cautiously, they manoeuvred it around the room and laid it gently atop a mismash of five tables with roughly the same height that Xie Lian had cobbled together.

Xie Lian surveyed their handiwork with satisfaction and rolled up his sleeves, ready to begin his real work. Whereas Hua Cheng, knowing his part of the proceedings had ended, settled in a chair opposite to watch, his chin propped up in his hand.

With a damp cloth in hand, Xie Lian carefully began to wipe off the dirt and dust from the streets. It was a simple sign, following the proud tradition of old coffee shops in the region, with gold lettering embossed on a black background. The first line was inscribed in a flowing, carefree Chinese script 心在桃源. The second line was a smaller, more demure style that said “Heart in Paradise” in English. 

Once the surface was thoroughly cleaned, Xie Lian picked up a brush, dipped it in a pot of gold paint, and made small slow streaks across the gold lettering, each stroke restoring the dulled, tarnished gold.

After a moment of quiet observation, Hua Cheng asked,

“Gege, where does this name come from?” 

“Heart in Paradise?” asked Xie Lian, with a brief glance at the lounging figure.

“Mm.”

Xie Lian returned to his laborious work with a smile, but a smile now infused with a sadness.

He was silent for a time, his eyes transfixed on his work, and then with a sign, decided to break the silence. 

“It was in that year, the year when I lost everything.” He looked at Hua Cheng and received a nod of understanding, Hua Cheng knew exactly which year it was. 

“I thought…I thought maybe it was time to end everything, so I’d have nothing more to lose. And I was lying down in the middle of this field at that time.”

He closed his eyes in recollection, drawing himself back to that moment.

“But even as I felt the darkness crushing me inwards, I heard children laughing around me, I felt the cool breeze against my skin. I felt the sun beating down on my face. I felt the grass prickling my skin.  I felt…good.”

He opened his eyes once more and cast a smile at Hua Cheng. 

“I thought, if I can still feel goodness around me even when I am at the bottom of the abyss, then surely my heart can always remain in paradise, no matter what happens. And so, that is how I named this place, as a reminder and a purpose in life.”

Hua Cheng unfolded himself from the stool and strode closer to Xie Lian, leaning heavily over the wooden sign, as he said with a heart-stopping calm.

“Then, Gege. My purpose in life is to make sure you never fall into the abyss again.”

~~~~~~~

[nedlittle]

mónica ojeda - jawbone (tr. sarah booker)

[capturedfancy]

[versedvices]

The most beautiful person I've ever met is a person I'll never see again. It's the same reason I'll never love again.

[lakisfourouklas-blog]

I wanted to cross your sea and sky like a sparkling flame but you were afraid of that. You wanted to tame the flame, control it, and I was afraid of that.

Lakis Fourouklas

From my novella A Eulogy for Love