I'm Laala and I'm 22 years old. This is mainly a book blog: reviews, photographs, quotes. I also post anything that tickles my fancy.
Reach me at distantheartbeats@gmail.com.
I'm the founder and editor in chief of an online literary magazine, Write Me a Metaphor. I'm also a poet, and you can buy my book on Amazon.
My other tumblrs: Discourse on Life | A Burst of Colour | One Door to Another.
My goodreads profile | Flickr | last.fm | YouTube | Instagram.
[2009: Books | Movies | Concerts | Theatre] [2010: Books | Movies | Concerts | Theatre]
[2011: Books | Movies | Concerts | Theatre]
~ Saturday, April 14 ~
Permalink
Often then, still, now, always, if I can use the book as a compass I can right my way. Reading calms me and it clears my head. In the company of a book my mind expands and I find myself less anxious and more aware.
— Jeanette Winterson, A Bed. A Book. A Mountain.
335 notes  ()
~ Wednesday, March 14 ~
Permalink
Books work from the inside out. They are a private conversation happening somewhere in the soul.
— Jeanette Winterson, A Bed. A Book. A Mountain.
459 notes  ()
~ Saturday, January 28 ~
Permalink
Of course that is not the whole story, but that is the way with stories; we make them what we will. It’s a way of explaining the universe while leaving the universe unexplained, it’s a way of keeping it all alive, not boxing it into time. Everyone who tells a story tells it differently, just to remind us that everybody sees it differently. Some people say there are true things to be found, some people say all kinds of things can be proved. I don’t believe them. The only thing for certain is how complicated it all is, like string full of knots.
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
18 notes  ()
~ Friday, January 27 ~
Permalink
What is it about intimacy that makes it so very disturbing?
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
71 notes  ()
~ Thursday, January 26 ~
Permalink
Time is a great deadener. People forget, get bored, grow old, go away.
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
22 notes  ()
~ Wednesday, January 25 ~
Permalink
In the library I felt better, words you could trust and look at till you understood them, they couldn’t change half way through a sentence like people, so it was easier to spot a lie.
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
54 notes  ()
~ Tuesday, January 24 ~
Permalink
It’s a visitor’s privilege to be foolish.
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
6 notes  ()
~ Monday, January 23 ~
Permalink
But the rags and ribbons turn to years and then the years are gone.
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
7 notes  ()
~ Sunday, January 22 ~
Permalink
Fiction needs its specifics, its anchors. It needs also to pass beyond them. It needs to be weighed down with characters we can touch and know, it needs also to fly right through them into a larger, universal space. This paradox makes work readable and durable, from its impossible tension, something harmonious is born.
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit in the Introduction
106 notes  ()
Permalink
Currently reading. I’m on the train to Cambridge to visit an old friend. Looking forward to seeing the town, actually, I’ve never been before.

Currently reading. I’m on the train to Cambridge to visit an old friend. Looking forward to seeing the town, actually, I’ve never been before.

11 notes  ()