I suppose there will never be a lack of things to say, of stories to be told and shared.
Erin MorgensternMots clés stories
Tsukiko sits on the floor in the center of the room, wearing a red kimono. A beating crimson heart in the pale chamber.
Erin MorgensternMots clés heart kimono pale crimson
We are too mercurial for our own good.
Erin MorgensternAh," remarked one guest when the topic arose. "You prefer not to see the gears of the clock, as to better tell the time.
Erin MorgensternI don;t think there's anything wrong with being a dreamer. There is not. But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.
Erin Morgenstern¿Alguna vez me amaste? - Pregunta Isobel.
-No - admite Marco-. Creí que quizás podría, pero…
Isobel asiente.
-Yo creí que lo hacías -dice ella-. Estaba tan segura que lo hacías, aunque nunca me lo habías dicho. No sabía la diferencia entre lo que era real y lo que quería que fuera real. Pensé que esto iba a ser temporal, aún cuando seguía pasando. Pero no lo es. Nunca lo fue. Yo era la que era temporal.
The past stays on you the way powdered sugar stays on your fingers.
Erin MorgensternMots clés adorable
I worry hope will crush me, the way love has so many times before.
Are they so different, hope and love? O
Mots clés flax-golden-tales
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There is a movement happening, a quiet one.
A low-profile, low-resolution revolution.
Comprised of writers and dreamers, of guerrilla artists and thought-ninjas.
Those with something to say.
They communicate through text inscribed on true public spaces, rather than blogs and forums.
Choosing fewer words, even without being bound by 140 character limits.
Using ink instead of pixels.
Sending messages in living, breathing space.
Pens scream louder into the void.
Even if permanent ink is not aptly named.
Mots clés flax-golden-tales
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You can say anything with a Post-It.
I’m not entirely sure why that is.
Maybe the friendliness of the squares makes it easier. A square is nicely compact and less intimidating than a full page.
And they come in cheerful colors. Non-white paper is kind of inherently festive.
Or maybe paper that sticks feels more important than paper that can blow away.
(Though you can move them, if you need to put them somewhere else.)
They might not be as lasting as words carved in stone, but Post-It thoughts will stay.
For awhile, at least.
Mots clés flax-golden-tales
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