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We read in bed because reading is halfway between life and dreaming, our own consciousness in someone else’s mind. ― How Reading Changed My Life, by Anna Quindlen.

We read in bed because reading is halfway between life and dreaming, our own consciousness in someone else’s mind. 
― How Reading Changed My Life, by Anna Quindlen.

(Source: faeryhearts)

(Source: faeryhearts)

Artwork: Remembrance, by Kirk Reinert.

Artwork: Remembrance, by Kirk Reinert.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Arms were made for loving…

Arms were made for loving…

(Source: faeryhearts)

Respect was in Aragorn’s eyes, as he regarded Éowyn. “You have some skill with a blade.”"The women of this country learned long ago that those without swords may still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain.""What do you fear, my lady?” She slowly turned back to face him, then spoke from her heart. “A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them, and all chance of valour has gone beyond recall or desire.”Aragorn shook his head, wonderingly. “You are a daughter of kings, a Shieldmaiden of Rohan. I do not think that would be your fate.”― The Lord of The Rings: The Two Towers [2002].Artwork: The White Lady of Rohan, by Līga Kļaviņa.

Respect was in Aragorn’s eyes, as he regarded Éowyn. “You have some skill with a blade.”

"The women of this country learned long ago that those without swords may still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain."

"What do you fear, my lady?” 

She slowly turned back to face him, then spoke from her heart. “A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them, and all chance of valour has gone beyond recall or desire.”

Aragorn shook his head, wonderingly. “You are a daughter of kings, a Shieldmaiden of Rohan. I do not think that would be your fate.”
― The Lord of The Rings: The Two Towers [2002].

Artwork: The White Lady of Rohan, by Līga Kļaviņa.

(Source: faeryhearts)

mandyethmaximus wrote: Your blog is beautiful. Reminds me so much of Faerie, the Perilous Realm. Keep up the good work! :)

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Aww, thank you! Sometimes, I do very harshly criticise my blog, doubt that it’s as beautiful or as faerylike as it should be, so I really did need to hear that. -hugs!-

Then he was away, the Grovelhog, flinging on the saddle and riding off, the strangest steed, the strangest rider, the strangest army of hens and sheep and pigs and cattle. His parents watched him until he was a faint smudge in the distance, the farmer stroking the quill he’d shed in goodbying, while his mother felt a crack faulting her heart, like a tiny pencil line. And with each hour the pencil line grew thicker and thicker until one day, not long after, her heart split in half and she died.― Hans My Hedgehog, by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, retold by Anthony Minghella.

Then he was away, the Grovelhog, flinging on the saddle and riding off, the strangest steed, the strangest rider, the strangest army of hens and sheep and pigs and cattle. His parents watched him until he was a faint smudge in the distance, the farmer stroking the quill he’d shed in goodbying, while his mother felt a crack faulting her heart, like a tiny pencil line. And with each hour the pencil line grew thicker and thicker until one day, not long after, her heart split in half and she died.
― Hans My Hedgehog, by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, retold by Anthony Minghella.

(Source: faeryhearts)

I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.― Anaïs Nin.Artwork: Starry Skies, by Kagaya.

I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.
― Anaïs Nin.

Artwork: Starry Skies, by Kagaya.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Photography/Artwork by Kerstin Frank.

Photography/Artwork by Kerstin Frank.

(Source: faeryhearts)

How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said.― Les Misérables, by Victor Hugo.Artwork: The Beauty And The Tragedy, by Incantevolle.

How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said.
― Les Misérables, by Victor Hugo.

Artwork: The Beauty And The Tragedy, by Incantevolle.

(Source: faeryhearts)

(Source: totesyourmate)

Hearts are wild creatures; that’s why our ribs are cages.― Anon.

Hearts are wild creatures; that’s why our ribs are cages.
― Anon.

(Source: faeryhearts)

The Enchanted Garden Network

I’m very pleased to announce that this blog is now a member of The Enchanted Garden Network!

(Source: faeryhearts)

Since it is so likely that children will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage.― C. S. Lewis.Artwork: White Knight, by Lu Hua.

Since it is so likely that children will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage.
C. S. Lewis.

Artwork: White Knight, by Lu Hua.

(Source: faeryhearts)

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