#.reymb

[mangoslixes]

It is my belief that the World (or, if you will, the House, since the two are for all practical purposes identical) wishes an Inhabitant for Itself to be a witness to its Beauty and the recipient of its Mercies.

mutuals as books I love: @therefugeofbooks as Piranesi

[mangoslixes]

“Nothing is safe from you. If I were to court a girl who lived on an iceberg in the middle of the ocean, sooner or later— probably sooner— I’d look up to see you swooping overhead on a broomstick. In fact, by now I’d be disappointed in you if I didn’t see you.” “Are you off to the iceberg today?” Sophie retorted.

mutuals as books I love: @yoonzinoswife as Howl's Moving Castle (I changed my mind for reasons)

[mangoslixes]

Nobody tells you how those nights that stand out in your memory—levee sunset nights, hurricane nights, first kiss nights, homesick sleepover nights, nights when you stood at your bedroom window and looked at the lilies one porch over and thought they would stand out, singular and crystallized, in your memory forever—they aren't really anything. They're everything, and they're nothing. They make you who you are, and they happen at the same time a twenty-three-year-old a million miles away is warming up some leftovers, turning in early, switching off the lamp. They're so easy to lose.

mutuals as books I love: @themelodyofspring as One Last Stop

[mangoslixes]

'Do you remember what we were speaking of earlier, of how bloody, terrible things are sometimes the most beautiful?' he said. 'It's a very Greek idea, and a very profound one. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? Euripides speaks of the Maenads: head thrown I back, throat to the stars, "more like deer than human being." To be absolutely free! One is quite capable, of course, of working out these destructive passions in more vulgar and less efficient ways. But how glorious to release them in a single burst! To sing, to scream, to dance barefoot in the woods in the dead of night, with no more awareness of mortality than an animal! These are powerful mysteries. The bellowing of bulls. Springs of honey bubbling from the ground. If we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look that naked, terrible beauty right in the face; let God consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. Then spit us out reborn.'

We were all leaning forward, motionless. My mouth had fallen open; I was aware of every breath I took.

'And that, to me, is the terrible seduction of Dionysiac ritual.'

- The Secret History, Donna Tartt

[mangoslixes]

“And now we’re heroes together,” he said. “What an experience. What an excellent evening.”

He smiled at us; we smiled at him. Three crocodiles on a muddy shore could not have smiled at each other more eloquently or with such gleaming teeth. We stood waiting, the three of us, and a moment later were engulfed by shrill inquiries and breathless congratulations.

mutuals as books I love: @frost0wl/@hmcbook as Lockwood and Co series

[mangoslixes]

This is my admittedly graceless strategy: annihilate every center of power, so everything will collapse into chaos and people will have no choice but to obey the new most powerful thing - me.

[mangoslixes]

“Calcifer,” Sophie said, “were you ever a falling star?”

Calcifer opened one orange eye at her. “Of course,” he said.

for @hmcbook

[mangoslixes]

Fifteen sunflowers, some in bloom and some turning. Yellow on yellow pigment that darkened to ochre. Yellow earthenware vase decorated by a complementary blue line that cut across its middle. The original was painted by one of the loneliest men on earth. But painted in a frenzy of optimism and gratitude and hope. A celebration of the transcendent power of the color yellow.

mutuals as books I love: @appleinducedsleep as Tin Man by Sarah Winman

[mangoslixes]

As we count up the memories from one journey, we head off on another. Remembering those who went ahead. Remembering those who will follow after. And someday, we will meet all those people again, out beyond the horizon.

mutuals as books I love: @gushuwa as The Travelling Cat Chronicles

[mangoslixes]

“Don't you ever feel that way Percy? Like you could do a better job if you ran the world?” “Um...no. Me running the world would be kind of a nightmare.”

mutuals as books I love: @matcha-chai as the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series

[mangoslixes]

“Why is it that everything I eat when I’m with you is so delicious?”

mutuals as books I love: @latejulys as Kitchen

[mangoslixes]

“Go in,” she told it. “Get in there and work!” And she pushed and pushed. The heart began to sink in, and to beat more strongly as it went. Sophie tried to ignore the flames and scuffles by the door and to keep up a steady, firm pressure. Her hair kept getting in her way. It fell across her face in reddish fair hanks, but she tried to ignore that too. She pushed.

The heart went in. As soon as it had disappeared, Howl stirred about. He gave a loud groan and rolled over onto his face. “Hell’s teeth!” he said. “I’ve got a hangover!”

“No, you hit your head on the floor,” Sophie said.

for @hmcbook

[mangoslixes]

"I think we ought to live happily ever after," and she thought he meant it. Sophie knew that living happily ever after with Howl would be a good deal more hair-raising than any storybook made it sound, though she was determined to try.

"It should be hair-raising," added Howl.

"And you'll exploit me," Sophie said.

"And then you'll cut up all my suits to teach me," said Howl.

for @hmcbook

[mangoslixes]

- Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic

[mangoslixes]

Peter Parker for @scandalous-chaos

"Spiderboy," the Scary Guy in the front said, the one who was so careless with his weapon. He seemed pissed that someone spotted it, and of course, he remembered the vigilante who punched him in the guts last week.

"Wonderful to see you again!" Peter said pleasantly. "But it's Spiderman."

[mangoslixes]

Francis Doyle

Francis was very thin; his face was that of a plaster saint haunted by his impending martyrdom. The dark circles under his eyes, almost like bruises against that pale skin, made her suspect a hidden ailment. Virgil Doyle on the other hand had been carved from marble: he exuded strength where Francis irradiated weakness, and Virgil’s features—the eyebrows, the cheekbones, the full mouth—were bolder, entirely more attractive.

She could not judge Francis ill if he wished for that same vitality.

- Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic