dream under the tree

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«The dream was of a place unknown to Margarita - hopeless, dismal, under the sullen sky of early spring. In the dream there was this ragged,
fleeting, grey sky, and under it a noiseless flock of rooks. Some gnarled
little bridge, and under it a muddy spring runlet. Joyless, destitute,
half-naked trees. A lone aspen, and further on, among the trees, beyond some
vegetable patch, a little log structure - a separate kitchen, a bathhouse,
devil knows what it was! Everything around somehow lifeless and so dismal
that one just longed to hang oneself from that aspen by the bridge. Not a
puff of breeze, not a movement of the clouds, and not a living soul. What a
hellish place for a living man!»
Master and Margarita

1 year ago

«Oh, it has set! It’s freshening. Midnight is on the way. It’s time for me to go.»
Master

1 year ago

Growing is Forever (by BonbonOverdose)

We’re more of the love, blood, and rhetoric school. Well, we can do you blood and love without the rhetoric, and we can do you blood and rhetoric without the love, and we can do you all three concurrent or consecutive. But we can’t give you love and rhetoric without the blood. Blood is compulsory. They’re all blood, you see.” Rosencrantz & Guilderstern are dead

1 year ago