" Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."
Søren Kierkegaard  (via havsglimt)


Ah. Another tricky one. As the official Keeper of the One True Copy, Terry physically wrote more of Draft 1 than Neil. But if 2,000 words are written down after a lot of excited shouting, it’s a moot point whose words they are. And, in any case, as a matter of honor both of them rewrote and footnoted the other guy’s stuff, and both can write passably in the other guy’s style. The Agnes Nutter scenes and the kids mostly originated with Terry, the Four Horsemen and anything with maggots started with Neil. Neil had the most influence on the opening, Terry on the ending. Apart from that, they just shouted excitedly a lot.

The point they both realised the text had wandered into its own world was in the basement of the old Gollancz books, where they’d got together to proofread the final copy, and Neil congratulated Terry on a line that Terry knew he hadn’t written, and Neil was certain that he hadn’t written either. They both privately suspect that at some point the book had started to generate text on its own, but neither of them will actually admit this publicly for fear of being thought odd.


This happens a surprising amount in any good collaboration. “That’s a great line!” “You wrote it.” “No, I’m pretty sure you did.”

Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (2006 edition) - appendix by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (via hapfairy)

" There is no reason why good cannot triumph as often as evil. The triumph of anything is a matter of organization. If there are such things as angels, I hope that they are organized along the lines of the Mafia."
Kurt Vonnegut (via glitter6ug)

" Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It’s all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self portrait. Everything is a diary."
Chuck Palahniuk (via southernharvestmoon)


Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn’t it.

It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life.

You give them a piece of you. They don’t ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore.

Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase just like “maybe we should be friends” or “how very perceptive” turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart.

It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt. A real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain.

Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love.

Neil Gaiman, The Sandman Volume 9 (via lairiel)


When her kiss transforms the Beast, she is furious.

"You should have warned me! Here I was smitten by an exceptional being, and all of a sudden, my fiance becomes an ordinary distinguished young man!"

the 1909 play Beauty and the Beast:  Fantasy in Two Acts by Fernand Noziere, the very first published version of the story where the Beauty is disappointed when the Beast transforms into a human at the end. (via mylittlepocketwitch)

" My cousin Helen, who is in her 90s now, was in the Warsaw ghetto during World War II. She and a bunch of the girls in the ghetto had to do sewing each day. And if you were found with a book, it was an automatic death penalty. She had gotten hold of a copy of ‘Gone With the Wind’, and she would take three or four hours out of her sleeping time each night to read. And then, during the hour or so when they were sewing the next day, she would tell them all the story. These girls were risking certain death for a story. And when she told me that story herself, it actually made what I do feel more important. Because giving people stories is not a luxury. It’s actually one of the things that you live and die for."
 Neil Gaiman (via jaynestown)

" And you have fixed my life – however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me."
Wilfred Owen in a letter to Siegfried Sassoon, 5 November 1917 (via wilfredowen)

" stop acting so small. you are the universe in ecstatic motion."
rumi  (via wethinkwedream)

" He [myself] easily envisions his fate in an age that has crossed out passion in order to serve science, in an age when an author who desires readers must be careful to write in such a way that his book can be conveniently skimmed during the after-dinner nap, must be careful to look and act like that polite gardener’s handyman in Adresseavisen [The Advertiser] who with hat in hand and good references from his most recent employer recommends himself to the esteemed public. He foresees his fate of being totally ignored; he has a terrible foreboding that the zealous critic will call him on the carpet many times. He dreads the even more terrible fate that some enterprising abstracter, a gobbler of paragraphs (who, in order to save science, is always willing to do the writing other what Trop magnanimously did with [his] The Destruction of the Human Race in order to “save good taste”), will cut him up into paragraphs and do so with the same inflexibility as the man who, in order to serve the science of punctuation, divided his discourse by counting out the words, fifty words to a period and thirty-five to a semicolon. Itemic ransacker: “This is not the system; it has not the least thing to do with the system and for the Danish shareholders in this omnibus, for it will hardly become a tower. I wish them all, each and every one, success and good fortune.”"
Johannes De Selentio. From Fear and Trembling by Søren Kierkegaard.

" Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires."
William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act I, Scene VI (via ghostkings)

" We’re only here briefly. And while I’m here, I want to allow myself joy. So fuck it."
Amy (Her, 2013)

" When I look at you I sprout daisies and daffodils in my lungs.
You remind me that miracles come bundled up in summer dresses and sugar water smiles.
My voice still trembles when I try to tell you that you look beautiful,
Always you kiss me quick and I know that you forgive me for my awkward tendencies.
I don’t think they make me any better,
You make me better and you make me want to better than I already am.
We are not a mix of sugar and salt but spice and sweet.
And you’d think that we don’t exactly go together but it’ll just take some getting used to.
I’m still getting used to the idea that you haven’t left yet even after all my neurotic affects;
You told me, once, when we were too drunk to walk that
“Nothing about you is wrong to me.”
And I remember thinking how weirdly you worded it,
But I also remember that it sounded so beautifully constructed.
I know we’re just getting started,
I know we’ve just begun.
I told you that I have a tendency to burn and that I wouldn’t mind if you decided to run.
You told me,
“Baby, I like playing with matches.”"

"First Spark" - Nishat Ahmed

Really late on this request but here it is!

(via sickwithsyllables)

" If you’re gonna bail, bail early. This applies to relationships, college classes, and sledding,"
(via natashakills)