faces of literature


✧*:・゚ gif battle ♥ 3cbx ♥ 98a ♥ whatchatalkabout ♥ syua ♥ minchims ♥ shinspirit ・゚: *✧
week 7: color palette challenge + haseul 

Why waste time searching for the faces I used to know when in all reality, I now couldn’t single them out in a crowd. People come and go, times change and so do the ones that surround us. We grow apart. So much so that what we thought we knew becomes unrecognizable, because what we thought we knew isn’t what we know now. The people we thought were ours just end up becoming a part of the crowd. Yes, people come and people go. Even so, I’m glad I got a moment with you despite all the odds.

“He had marked out a straight path through all that is most torturous in the world; his conscience was bound up in his usefulness and his religion in his duties; he was a spy as other cats are purr-riests. Woe to any who fell into his claws! He would have arrested his own father for escaping purr-rison and his own mother for breaking her purr-role. And he would have done it with the interior satisfaction that springs from virtue. His life was one of privations, self-denial, isolation, chastity–never any a-mew-sment…a pitiless detective, fiercely honest, a marble-hearted informer…..

He was free from vice, as we have said. When he was satisfied with himself he allowed himself a pinch of catnip. That proved he was still a cat.”

Classicat #30: Inspector Chatvert (Paw-vert in the English translation) from Les Meowserables by Victor Mewgo

Chatvert’s heart is made of wood, and you cannot soften a heart of wood…unless your name is Jean Meowljan, and even then it’ll take like twenty years and a failed revolution 

From Activist To Author: How 12-Year-Old Marley Dias Is Changing The Face Of Children's Literature
At the annual Forbes' Women Summit in New York City Tuesday, 12-year-old founder of #1000BlackGirlBooks Marley Dias reflected on how she was able to turn her frustration by the books she was seeing in school -- stuff more along the lines of Shiloh than I Love My Hair -- into a genuine movement.
By Maggie McGrath

“I had a lot of choices about how I was going to address this problem. Option 1: focus on me, get myself more books; have my dad take me to Barnes and Noble and just be done, live my perfect life in suburban New Jersey. Option 2: find some authors, beg them to write more black girl books so I’d have some of my own, special editions, treat myself a bit,” she said. “Or, option 3: start a campaign that collect books with black girls as the main characters, donate them to communities, develop a resource guide to find those books, talk to educators and legislators about how to increase the pipeline of diverse books, and lastly, write my own book, so that I can see black girl books collected and I can see my story reflected in the books I have to read.”

Behind the Mask

You adore butterflies,
Then you became one.
Camouflaging your sorroundings,
Trying hard to fit in.

As you try to blend,
You forget who you are.
You were once unique,
What made you change?

They believe they know you,
The patterns you show them.
They judge your behavior,
not knowing that you’re acting.

How would they know?
You’ve been the best puppet.
The best actress,
No traces of script.

Why do you have to keep it all in?
Aren’t you full yet?
Sooner or later you’ll burst,
and naught might left with you.

How many faces have you shown them?
How many of those were true?
It makes it harder for you to trust
when you can’t even trust your own.