emotions scrapbook (returned)

twin hero-wizards, warriors and mischief-makers, the pride and the torment of their home

When I came through the door he panicked again and tried to hide under his desk, except his knee's a mess, and he couldn't get back out, so I had to get someone to move the desk and pick him up. He's goofy now he's got a boyfriend.

The return of the beloved does not correct the loss of the beloved.

Achilles, while much calmer in his afterlife, was famed for his unstoppable rage; Patroclus by contrast has almost completely shut down emotionally.

BUT THERE'S SHIT THAT I'VE DONE WITH THIS FUCK OF A GUN

Julio is way out of his element here, too. Star just doesn't realize it yet.

Sad and angry, can't learn how to behave – still won't know how in the darkness of the grave.

That is the nature of death. It never seems to come when it should. It takes the young, the vulnerable, and those with more still to offer to the world. And the true burdens on society – the aristocratic, the power hungry, the hoarders – it leaves alone until a ripe old age.

In this as in many other matters he displeased his father.

Where are the weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter? All, all, are sleeping on the hill.

Sometimes our families can’t love us all the time. Sometimes we’re born into families who don’t know how to love us properly. They do as much as they can but the rest is up to our friends. They can love you all the time, without judgment. At least the good ones can.

Never saw her son again he was washed away
Now she can’t look at the sea she can’t think about
The bits unburied being uneaten by fishes

three apples tall. as tall as one little kitten

I’ll adapt. But I’ll always be human.
Of course. It’s just as well, really.
Oh? Should I take that to mean you’re fond of me as I am?

His beauty, at that moment augmented by his pride, was resplendent, and he was fresh and rosy after the fearful twenty four hours which had just elapsed, as though he could no more be fatigued than wounded.

It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know.

My body, that invisible body that girls keep.

Whose side are you on, Gavin?
Listen to me, Daryan. There are no sides in a court of law.
…
Which is why I now turn to you, Herr Forehead.

They say that when you’re really in love, the world becomes gossamer and gorgeous, but in my experience the world gets grimy, and the love object is in stark relief from the surroundings. This is love, a pretty thing on an ugly street.

To be scarce is to be king!

We will pardon you. It is not too late!
You still act as if what is happening is at your whim. So arrogant! I am trying to save you, and you are worried about saving face!

Their ghosts didn’t have time to keep hold of their names. It was so sudden.

War had been their whole world. So many lives, so many fates. The end of the fighting was like the deflation of an entire landscape, with fields, mountains, and rivers collapsing in on themselves.

My brother would have hated this. Seeing them so happy… he never did like things that were so uncomplicatedly loving and good.
Like you?

If you want to be loved the way we’ve been pretending to love each other… unlike me, you’ve actually got someone. Don’t pretend he wouldn’t take you back. I haven’t got anyone to fall back on; maybe that’s why I believed we were really in love.

Sleeper, tell me: the ones you held like me. Man I have no power over.

But then you disappear for these long stretches without a word, and even when you’re here you won’t speak freely, and I can’t tell if I’ve just imagined the whole thing, tricked myself into thinking you ever really thought of me with any warmth at all.

The problem is Earth. On Earth, there is no poverty, no crime, no war. You look out the window of Starfleet Headquarters and you see paradise. It’s easy to be a saint in paradise.

I said something wrong, but I am not sure what it was.
Ah. I thought you had forgotten.
I fear it caused a rift between us, and I would like to understand why.
You did not respond as yourself.
Pardon?
You said what you thought I wanted to hear.

Why is she still here? She's avenged.
She was never interested in vengeance. She's too good-natured for that. She wants to stay in the store and look after it. She likes the customers that come in and out and all her familiar store routines. No one is waiting for her in death.