Fuck Literary Gatekeeping, Read Whatever You Want.

Writing is my obsession, my passion. My relationship with it is one of the most complex and agonizing and richly vexing that I have in my life.

Julianna Baggott (via wordsnquotes)

how isn’t hiding in the bathroom a good coping mechanism

I like listening to ppl talk so i can see whats normal and whats not normal

latin phrases worth knowing:

(in case you wanted to know because i fucking love this language) 

ad astra per aspera - to the stars through difficulties 

alis volat propriis - he flies by his own wings 

amantium irae amoris integratio est - the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love 

ars longa, vita brevis - art is long, life is short 

aut insanity homo, aut versus facit - the fellow is either mad or he is composing verses 

dum spiro spero - while I breathe, I hope 

ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem - with the sword, she seeks peace under liberty 

exigo a me non ut optimus par sim sed ut malis melior - I require myself not to be equal to the best, but to be better than the bad

experiential docet - experience teaches 

helluo librorum - a glutton for books (bookworm) 

in libras libertas - in books, freedom 

littera scripta manet - the written letter lasts 

mens regnum bona possidet - an honest heart is a kingdom in itself 

mirabile dictu - wonderful to say 

nullus est liber tam malus ut non aliqua parte prosit - there is no book so bad that it is not profitable in some part 

omnia iam fient quae posse negabam - everything which I used to say could not happen, will happen now 

poeta nascitur, non fit - the poet is born, not made 

qui dedit benificium taceat; narrat qui accepit - let him who has done a good deed be silent; let him who has received it tell it 

saepe ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit - often, it is not advantageous to know what will be 

sedit qui timuit ne non succederet - he who feared he would not succeed sat still 

si vis pacem, para bellum - if you want peace, prepare for war 

struit insidias lacrimis cum feminia plorat - when a woman weeps, she is setting traps with her tears 

sub rosa - under the rose 

trahimir omnes laudis studio - we are led on by our eagerness for praise

urbem latericium invenit, marmoream reliquit - he found the city a city of bricks; he left it a city of marble 

ut incepit fidelis sic permanet - as loyal as she began, so she remains

Julian doesn’t believe in ghosts, but he’d be lying if the quiet of campus in the dark didn’t make him uneasy, and he had his phone out as a flashlight by the time he got to the garden. At least it didn’t take him too long to find the bonfire itself.

And he gravitated to sit near the first person he spotted that he actually knew to any degree, his roommate. He’s pretty quiet, saying as little as possible while keeping the conversation going, but Montague saying that gets a pause from Jules.

          ❝... Huh.❞ He says quietly, pushing his glasses up his nose. He’s actually wearing his glasses for once, having taken his contacts out earlier in the evening. They were starting to burn his eyes a bit, so he knew better than to keep them in. He’s sure his eyes are invisible because of that, with the flickering glare of the fire on his lenses.

That’s good. Maybe it’s not so obvious how nervous he is to even be here.

He really doesn’t know what to make of his roommate. Montague seems incredibly nice, but also like... just... a lot. Very exuberant and friendly.

A hell of a Roommate for someone like Julian to end up with ( Awkward, shy, nervous, reserved. Someone people just forget. No one would forget the likes of Montague for sure ). He’s only at this bonfire party at all because it was his roommate’s idea, and it would feel rude to not come.

          ❝Maybe it’s just because I’ve never had close friends before, but I really cannot fathom that. The social part of the college experience has legitimately never crossed my mind before now.❞

Julian is sitting cross-legged on a think fleece blanket he brought with him, and he has his writing notebook out on his lap, with a pen held loosely in his hand. He heard there were going to be Ghost Stories, and he wanted to take notes. He feels like there’s a lot that could be done with the ideas floating around this campus. There’s nothing quite like hearing people tell the spooky things they think they’ve experienced (or want us to think they experienced) for inspiration.

Though he doesn’t know why he bothers. He’s never going to go anywhere with this. Just a dumb hobby. He clicks his pen a few times, before looking back up at Montague.

          ❝Could you not just... keep in contact with your college friends upon graduating, or uh dropping out? Or would that somehow not be the same?❞

no matter how much time montague spent away from the university, he’d never forget the feeling of just walking through the gardens during the night. right now, the ethereal feeling was mixed with excitement for the impromptu rendezvous, but he could recognize it nonetheless. montague never believed in magic. he used to say that he met too many faithful people, learned too many conflicted myths to actually believe in any of them, so he’d never say that château campus was supernaturally magical. however, not even him could deny that the university carried some kind of magic. it was the same feeling he got when he hiked up a huge mountain just to have the view up there remind him that the world was a huge place. naturally magical. 

he took a deep breath, stretched his arm to catch one more bottle of beer and rearranged himself on the blanket in which he was seated.                                                 i’m serious, ok? the true reason i came back is this. not the fact that i should graduate before i turn thirty and i’ve been in this college for almost a decade already …  i missed the people and this moments. this is what make the whole college experience worth it.           it wasn’t exactly a lie. of course, he had a time limit to graduate because of his father, but it wouldn’t be the first time montague went against the man. the thing that made the classes bearable was these moments, with the hockey team, his friends and his future friends.

“Acting deals with very delicate emotions. It is not putting up a mask. Each time an actor acts he does not hide; he exposes himself.”

Moreau, Jeanne (via inkletters)