( via / via )

Dream_Console.

"The gods have left us, the creeds have crumbled;
   There are none to pity and none to care:
Our fellows have crushed us where we have stumbled;
   They have made of our bodies a bleeding stair.

Loud rang the bells in the Christmas steeples;
   We heard them ring through the bitter morn:
The promise of old to the weary peoples
   Came floating sweetly,—'Christ is born.'

But the words were mocking, sorely mocking,
   As we sought the sky through our freezing tears,
We children, who've hung the Christmas stocking,
   And found it empty two thousand years..."

--from "The Cry of the Unfit" by Voltairine de Cleyre (via)

Something Blue.

"Bones--that’s what our bonny truck driver--clown too, if he’s inside the truck--will be. Bones! But bones, alacky and alassy, aren’t witnesses. And bones, alacky and alassy twice, squared, and ditto and repeat--aren’t corpi delicti.

Bones, my amnesi-acal friends, are just bones, see? Tibias--femurs--coccyxes--ribs--but just bones."

--@HarrySKeeler

"I like this quote but instead of amor fati he should’ve said wyrdlufu."