“To me it’s kind of funny that you have a bunch of people saying, ‘Oh, the eagles are so deus ex machina’, and you’ve got even more people saying, ‘Why didn’t the eagles just take the Ring?’ Because they’re not deus ex machina! That’s why!”—Corey Olsen, Mythgard course on The Return of the King, "Good Endings" (via stoneofthehapless)
It’s difficult for me to think of Nelson Mandela as anything but a universally-respected, wise, kind, and thoughtful asset to humanity. But he also organized attacks that would today be unconditionally condemned as terrorism. His government fought peaceful demonstrations…
7. Do you prefer to read one book at a time, or several at once? Haha, definitely several at once! I accidently didn’t publish the previous ask, but when I listed the books I was currently reading I had 5, I believe.
15. What is your policy on book lending? If I know the person well and expect to get the book back at some point, I’ll entrust them with any. Otherwise it varies depending on what book I’m lending.
24. Favourite biography? Harpo Speaks! It’s about Harpo Marx (technically it’s an autobiography but whatever) and it’s so fascinating. He had such an interesting life.
49. Do you like to keep your books organized? Yes! Though it may not look organized to others. It’s generally by some sort of category more on the dewey decimal system than alphabetized. All my Tolkien is together, all my Francine Rivers in one place, Austen/Gaskell/Bronte together, generic fantasy on another shelf, series always together. But I’ve got Lymond next to Calvin and Hobbes and Tolkien next to classics like The Aneid and Kidnapped, so once they’re out of their small section there’s no rhyme or reason other than what will fit on a shelf together.
Favorite moments of Tom HIddleston’s panel at Nerd HQ:
"That’s a great answer, I’ve just never felt more uncultured in my entire life." ~Zachary Levi, Tom had been asked about Shakespeare and of course he went on a whole spheel that didn’t really have an answer because Tom Hiddleston is the biggest Shakespeare nerd ever, second to Kenneth Brannagh.
Zachary Levi making a finger gun and pretending to blowing his brains out because Tom started speaking in French. A word to Zachary: Tom can also speak Spanish, Italian, Greek, Classical Greek, and Latin (I’m assuming).
Zac hitting himself on the forehead with his microphone as Tom is doing an impression of him in a I’ve-dug-myself-a-hole kind of way.
I’m glad to know that there are celebrities out there who know Tom and find his cultured state of being as annoyingly infuriating as we do.
Then the steam shifted and Philippa saw there was one suavely muscled brown back, stroked here and there with the pale scars of healed thrusts and the raw marks of an encounter more recent. One gentleman of the sword, just beyond the lady of the pretty black hair and the smile; who was amusing himself with a stiff game of bouillotte, played on a light wooden board drifting between himself and a large and roseate person of no visible rank.
Of the identity of the gentleman-soldier Philippa had no doubts at all. The arching hands, dealing the cards; the barbered yellow hair, whorled and tangled with damp, could belong to only one person…
“Let us pause and give thanks for the fact that Nelson Mandela lived — a man who took history in his hands, and bent the arc of the moral universe toward justice.”—President Obama, December 5, 2013 (via montanabohemian)
“I wish we could sometimes love the characters in real life as we love the characters in romances. There are a great many human souls whom we should accept more kindly, and even appreciate more clearly, if we simply thought of them as people in a story.”—G.K. Chesterton; What I Saw in America (via jspark3000)
That was where she had heard him quote those words, without realizing then what they were. The truth is that thy body is free of all shadow. To soul and brain from thy abode comes the perfume of Paradise…
He had spoken them to her, and broken off when he remembered. And after, when Marthe had tried to force him to embrace her, he had used, in his need, the only weapon which would stop both Marthe and send herself, quickly, out of danger.
Love did not require to act like that.
But hunger did. Hunger, decently denied, accounted for everything. Looking back, her eyes unsealed and open, she saw proved over and over what she should have observed long before but for her dazzlement. He wanted her. And as he had just said, had determined to spare her the net.
He did not know, but could be told, that to her, his reasons for abstaining were baseless. That nothing mattered, but this: that the moon was here, in her fingers.
Through the jolting in her ribs and the agony in her throat Philippa said, “I am not crying, I would have you understand, because I am sad; but because I believe you. I also have a little…sermon of my own to deliver.”
His wine glass was empty. He set it down carefully, its foot between two slender fingers. A little colour had come to mark his cheekbones, but his eyes remained on the goblet. “I know,” he said. “You are not either Sybilla or Marthe; and you know better than they do. But I am Gavin in everything but name…Indeed, I am his brother.” He looked up. “How long did Marthe’s love last, I wonder? A few months; a year or two at the most. Perhaps it would take you a little longer to find out you wanted a different husband, nearer your own age and interests. But since you have loyalties, unlike Marthe, the conflict then would be unsupportable. It might do you great harm: it is certainly more than I could contemplate…And there are other factors against me, that you know of.”
She would have spoken; and then saw, rather than felt, that he did not want her to.
He said, “I opened this door so that, understanding each other, we might shut it together. There are many men who feel about you as I do. When there is time and distance enough between us you will choose one, or be chosen, and have a life as good as Kate’s was with Gideon. Meanwhile…we have very few meetings left, and those all in public. It should not be too impossible. And at least you know…that it is not Kate; and that you do not sicken me.”
He paused to breathe, and to smile; and ended with the same persistent steadiness. “And we shall manage very well, as long as we are sensible. Restraint is the remedy. Restraint, and not exaggerated gestures of self-abnegation.”
"And that, I see, disposes of my future," said Philippa. Her chest was heaving. "So let’s take yours, and see what we can do for it. The blinding headaches, for example?"
He said, still steadily, “Perhaps marriage to Catherine will cure them.”
"Until April, you are married to me," Philippa said. "Perhaps four weeks of matrimony would cure us both."
She saw his breath leave him silently. There was a space. Then he said, “We should simply lose our annulment. I have had eleven months to think of all this.There is no basis for marriage between us. And that is quite final, Philippa.”
She was breathing almost as quickly as he was. But she kept her voice calm. “As you say, I’m inexperienced. On the other hand, you are not always right. Please listen. Please think. Are you sure, when it matters so much, that you know my feelings better than I do?”
"No," he said. "I’m not infallible. You might, without my crediting it, fall deeply in love and for ever, with some warped hunchback whelped in the gutter. I should equally stop you from taking him."
She couldn’t speak. Her breath wheezed in and out. With extreme deliberation, and indeed restraint and moderation as well, Philippa raised her glass and dashed it on the parquet. Crystals frosted the carpet between them, and the wine lay like blood.
Speech came back. “God in heaven,” Philippa said. “Do you think that I care?’”
He looked up from the mess. “I know you don’t,” Lymond said. His eyes were black, not blue; and there were red splashes on the white velvet. ‘But you must excuse the hunchback, who does.”
Dorothy Dunnett, Checkmate.
Because balladedutempsjardis is making me think about Lymond again and this is my favorite passage in the series. Oh, Lymond x Philippa, my favorite book OTP ever.
Anyone want to do a read/reread together? I plan to start my reread of Game of Kings this weekend…
“And, long since ashore with his men and his booty, Crawford of Lymond, man of wit and crooked felicities, bred to luxury and heir to a fortune, rode of serenely to Midculter to break into his new sister-in-law’s castle.”—A Game of Kings
“If you wish, you may run ahead screaming. It makes no difference now, although five minutes ago we were in something of a hurry…the servants to be tied up…the silver to collect…Richard’s personal hoard to recover from its usual cache. A man of iron habit, Richard.”—Francis Crawford, A Game of Kings