I am a 20 year old girl... I think.
I'm a cook, baker, giver and taker,
Writer, reader, troublemaker.
My original posts usually consist of recipes, poems, quotes, song parodies, short stories, or cute animal pictures.
My reblogs are usually just me spamming posts about my favorite fandoms.
I always follow for follow, so consider clicking that handy little button over there if you like. Enjoy your stay~
One of my customers at work today was wearing a Star Wars: Episode One T-shirt with majestic profiles of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. I got all excited when I saw it.
Me: Duude, we were totally just talking about Liam Neeson earlier! I love your shirt.
Customer: Thanks! Yeah, he’s the best. The ending had me in tears.
Me: zOMG ME TOO. *assorted other geekiness*
Manager: Come on, you can’t just approach customers like that.
Customer: Yes, she can.
Me: Yes, I can.
*mutual look of geeky respect and understanding*
Manager: *rolls eyes and gives up*
Are you what is called a happy man? Well! You are sad every day. Each day has its own great grief or its little care. Yesterday you were trembling for a health that is dear to you, today you fear for your own; tomorrow it will be an anxiety about money, the day after tomorrow the diatribe of a slanderer, the day after that, the misfortune of some friend; then the prevailing weather, then something that has been broken or lost, then a pleasure with which your conscience and your vertebral column reproach you; again, the course of public affairs. This without reckoning in the pains of the heart. And so it goes on. One cloud is dispelled, another forms. There is hardly one day out of a hundred which is wholly joyous and sunny. And you belong to that small class who are happy! As for the rest of mankind, stagnating night rests upon them.
Thoughtful minds make but little use of the phrase: the fortunate and the unfortunate. In this world, evidently the vestibule of another, there are no fortunate.
The real human division is this: the luminous and the shady. To diminish the number of the shady, to augment the number of the luminous, that is the object. That is why we cry: Education! Science! To teach reading, means to light the fire; every syllable spelled out sparkles.
However, he who says light does not, necessarily, say joy. People suffer in the light; excess burns. The flame is the enemy of the wing. To burn without ceasing to fly, therein lies the marvel of genius.
When you shall have learned to know, and to love, you will still suffer. The day is born in tears. The luminous weep, if only over those in darkness.
Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
In the eyes of Victor Hugo, we are all Les Miserables.