Laugh Through The Tears

To make great art, you had to expose your soul, and somethings should be left safely in the dark.

The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he’d learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.

There is something about libraries, old libraries, that makes them seem almost sacred. There’s a smell of paper and must and binding stuff. It’s like all the books are fighting against decay, against turning into dust, and at the same time fighting for attention.