aslowandendlessdrizzle

10

If you never fall in love, then I’ll be your deepest relationship. I would be your “the one”. Tom, you can’t be my “the one”.

Please Like Me 2x10 - Margherita

4

the killing + you can’t put a price on wisdom

  • some things you can’t fix. maybe they just stay broke.
  • if the truth hurts, you ain’t living right.
  • sometimes i think you just run away just so someone will come looking for you. staying put is a kind of running away.
  • empathy can poison your brain. it’s like elephants. i mean, they mourn their dead. go nuts over them.
  • bad luck either destroys you or makes you the man you really are.
  • just the wrong place at the wrong time. sometimes it just comes down to that, i guess. just the randomness.
  • sometimes what you get isn’t really what you want.
  • sometimes the ones who hide are the ones who want to be found the most.
  • it’s a measure of a person’s life, i think, those who come see you in the end.
  • it’s the loneliest thing in the world, waiting to be found.
10

- I know Sinclair asked. About whether I had the shot. Why didn’t you tell him the truth?
- Why didn’t you shoot me?

X Company - 2x03 - Schein Und Sein

Well, that’s what happens when you bewitch a man’s horse, Miss Eyre. A lot of pain and cursing.

When you came on me in Hay Lane last night, I thought unaccountably of fairy tales, and had half a mind to demand whether you had bewitched my horse. I am not sure yet. – Charlotte Brontë

2

That night, Ronan dreamt of his tattoo.

He had gotten the spreading, intricate tattoo only months before, a little to irritate Declan, a little to see if it was really as bad as everyone said, and definitely so everyone who glimpsed the hooks of it had fair warning. It was full of things from his head, beaks and claws and flowers and vines stuffed into screaming mouths.
It took him a long time to fall asleep that night, his thoughts crowded with the burning Mitsubishi, Gansey holding the Molotov cocktail, the enigmatic language on the puzzle box, the dark bags beneath Adam’s eyes.
And when he fell asleep, he dreamt of the tattoo. Ordinarily, Ronan only saw bits and pieces of it; he had not seen the full design since he’d gotten it. But tonight he saw the tattoo itself, from behind, as if he was outside of his own body, as if it was apart from his body. It was more complicated than he remembered. The road to the Barns was threaded through it, and Chainsaw peered out from a thicket of thorns. Adam was in the dream, too; he traced the tangled pattern of the ink with his finger. He said, “Scio quid hoc est.” As he traced it farther and farther down on the bare skin of Ronan’s back, Ronan himself disappeared entirely, and the tattoo got smaller and smaller. It was a Celtic knot the size of a wafer, and then Adam, who had become Kavinsky, said, “Scio quid estis vos.” He put the tattoo in his mouth and swallowed it.

Ronan woke with a start, ashamed and euphoric. The euphoria wore off long before the shame did.

❝  The stars winked through the beech leaves. She’d read that new stars tended to form in pairs. Binary stars, orbiting in close proximity, only becoming single stars when their partner was smashed off them by another pair of wildly spinning new stars. If she pretended hard enough, she could see the multitude of pairs clinging to each other in the destructive and creative gravity of their constellations.
Impressive.
Maybe she was a little impressed. Not by pulling the plug on a dead boy ––– that seemed sad, nothing to brag about. But because she’d learned something about herself today, and she’d thought there was nothing left there to discover.
The stars moved slowly above her, an array of possibilities, and for the first time in a long time, she felt them mirrored in her heart. 

2

Women are biologically unsuited to driving.
Which part of our biology gets in the way, exactly?
Well, you’re too easily distracted. A bird flies across and you end up in the gutter.
I seem to be able to handle my Hispano-Suiza without any trouble.

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries 2x07 - Blood At The Wheel