The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit

>>25113846
Fucking hell, came here to say this, every time it’s a clear night all it takes is for me to look up and it’s repeating in my head.

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>>25113617
I'm not crying, you're crying!

>>25113854
Probably the best line in english lit so far

>>25113617
A footnote in A Vindication of the Rights of Woman reads something like
>change a man’s mind against his will
>he’s of the same opinion still

>>25113617

“Nothing had changed. Their lives had been expended in the cheerless labor, their wills broken, their intelligences numbed. Now they were in the earth to which they had given their lives; and slowly, year by year, the earth would take them. Slowly the damp and rot would infest the pine boxes which held their bodies, and slowly it would touch their flesh and finally it would consume the last vestiges of their substances. And they would become a meaningless part of that stubborn earth to which they had long ago given themselves.”

For that moment I touched an emotion beyond the common range of men, yet one that the poor brutes we dominate know only too well. I felt as a rabbit might feel returning to his burrow and suddenly confronted by the work of a dozen busy navvies digging the foundations of a house. I felt the first inkling of a thing that presently grew quite clear in my mind, that oppressed me for many days, a sense of dethronement, a persuasion that I was no longer a master, but an animal among the animals, under the Martian heel. With us it would be as with them, to lurk and watch, to run and hide; the fear and empire of man had passed away.

-War of The Worlds

>>25113846
brilliant

>>25113617
Last passages of The Road, Wuthering Heights, third day of “The Chase” in MD.

Nor, at the time, had it failed to enter his monomaniac mind, that all the anguish of that then present suffering was but the direct issue of a former woe; and he too plainly seemed to see, that as the most poisonous reptile of the marsh perpetuates his kind as inevitably as the sweetest songster of the grove; so, equally with every felicity, all miserable events do naturally beget their like. Yea, more than equally, thought Ahab; since both the ancestry and posterity of Grief go further than the ancestry and posterity of Joy. For, not to hint of this: that it is an inference from certain canonic teachings, that while some natural enjoyments here shall have no children born to them for the other world, but, on the contrary, shall be followed by the joy-childlessness of all hell’s despair; whereas, some guilty mortal miseries shall still fertilely beget to themselves an eternally progressive progeny of griefs beyond the grave; not at all to hint of this, there still seems an inequality in the deeper analysis of the thing. For, thought Ahab, while even the highest earthly felicities ever have a certain unsignifying pettiness lurking in them, but, at bottom, all heartwoes, a mystic significance, and, in some men, an archangelic grandeur; so do their diligent tracings-out not belie the obvious deduction. To trail the genealogies of these high mortal miseries, carries us at last among the sourceless primogenitures of the gods; so that, in the face of all the glad, hay-making suns, and soft cymballing, round harvest-moons, we must needs give in to this: that the gods themselves are not for ever glad. The ineffaceable, sad birth-mark in the brow of man, is but the stamp of sorrow in the signers.

>Now something, oh, kind of funny happens here. Not that Slothrop is really aware of it now, while it’s going on—but later on, it will occur to him that he was—this may sound odd, but he was somehow, actually, well, inside his own cock. If you can imagine such a thing. Yes, inside the metropolitan organ entirely, all other colonial tissue forgotten and left to fend for itself, his arms and legs it seems woven among vessels and ducts, his sperm roaring louder and louder, getting ready to erupt, somewhere below his feet... maroon and evening cuntlight reaches him in a single ray through the opening at the top, refracted through the clear juices flowing up around him. He is enclosed. Everything is about to come, come incredibly, and he’s helpless here in this exploding emprise... red flesh echoing... an extraordinary sense of waiting to rise...

A little Watteau shepherd, all blue and silver like a ray of moonlight

>>25113617
This
And
>A dark horse, riderless, bolts like a phantom past the winning post, his mane moon foaming, his eyeballs stars.
And
>(Bloom, broken, closely veiled for the sacrifice, sobs, his face to the earth. The passing bell is heard. Darkshawled figures of the circumcised, in sackcloth and ashes, stand by the wailing wall. M. Shulomowitz, Joseph Goldwater…. ….the Reverend Leopold Abramovitz, Chazen. With swaying arms they wail in pneuma over the recreant Bloom.)
>THE CIRCUMCISED: (In a dark guttural chant as they cast dead sea fruit upon him, no flowers) Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu Adonai Echad.

>"The young moon recurved, and shining low in the west, was like a slender shaving thrown up from a bar of gold." - Lord Jim

No idea why this imagery stuck, but now the moon is just a gold shaving to me.

>>25113617
"No endemic species can survive the stomach of a Han Chinese!"

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It's non fiction but this excerpt from Storm of Steel is one of the most badass things ever put to paper.

"Whatever exists without my knowledge exists without my consent."

>>25116704
go back

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> It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind that swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.

Neo China arrives from the future

>>25113617
The end of The Dead
The Gilder
Myshkin and Rogozhin talking about Holbein's painting in The Idiot
Andrei meeting Napoleon in War and Peace

The end of Time Regained.

>>25113617
"The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel."