For these beings, fall is ever the normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth….Such are the autumn people.
Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes (via skeletalroses) Auntie Jillie told me that this is something I must always reblog. So it is done. Beautiful quote!
“Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late; the pain of the sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, and with such unknown horror as it has for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.”
~ Bram Stoker
Dear Tim Burton, I know you’ll never read this but I’m still going to write. Happy (belated) birthday and thank you. Thank you for helping me through my life. Thank you for giving me that extra nudge telling me it’s okay to be weird because “normal” doesn’t exist even when I felt like I should hide my weird. Thank you for helping me to become me. Thank you for sharing with millions a glimpse into your mind. Happy birthday and may you have the sweetest nightmares.