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you-and-me-divine:

If you didn’t think “Shia LaBeouf” could get better, you were wrong.

I thought being the fastest man alive would make my life easier, that I could outrun anything. Turns out, no one can outrun pain. Life is tragic — but it’s also precious, and sweet, and extraordinary. And the only way I know to honor my mom’s life is to
                   k e e p  r u n n i n g

e r f e c t is very boring, and if you happen to have a different look, that’s a celebration of human nature, I think. If we were all symmetrical and perfect, life would be very dull. 

So listen, if you listen to nothing else listen to this. you’re always going to be afraid, even if you learn to hide it. fear is like a companion. a constant companion, always there. but it’s okay. because fear can bring us together. fear can bring you home. 

The plaza was beginning to empty. The press dissolved around them as people drifted back to their lives. But Arya’s life was gone…

A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin  —— (Insp)

“The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real … for a moment at least … that long magic moment before we wake.

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?

We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to middle Earth.”