“I am a product of long corridors, empty sunlit rooms, upstairs indoor silences, attics explored in solitude, distant noises of gurgling cisterns and pipes, and the noise of wind under the tiles. Also, of endless books.”—C.S. Lewis (via talkativolive)
I found a little beetle; so that Beetle was his name, And I called him Alexander and he answered just the same. I put him in a match-box, and I kept him all the day … And Nanny let my beetle out - Yes, Nanny let my beetle out - She went and let my beetle out - And Beetle ran away.
“You have killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. Now you don’t even stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect, because you realised the dreams of great poets and gave shape and substance to the shadows of art. You have thrown it all away. You are shallow and stupid.”—