I'm just an uber-geek/fangirl/wanna-be writer/librarian trying to survive my early 30s. I write a lot and spend too much time with books. I know quite a bit about Sherlock Holmes, The Lord of the Rings, Superman, Greek/Roman and Norse mythology, Frankenstein, and any number of things that involve Peter Cushing. My journal is friends only.
Here dwell together still two men of note Who never lived and so can never die: How very near they seem, yet how remote That age before the world went all awry. But still the game’s afoot for those with ears Attuned to catch the distant view-halloo: England is England yet, for all our fears– Only those things the heart believes are true.
A yellow fog swirls past the window-pane As night descends upon this fabled street: A lonely hansom splashes through the rain, The ghostly gas lamps fail at twenty feet. Here, though the world explode, these two survive, And it is always eighteen ninety-five.
There is a Holmes quote for every occasion. Here are a couple of my favorites/ones that fit me:
Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. (A Case of Identity)
I am an omnivorous reader with a strangely retentive memory for trifles. (The Adventure of the Lion's Mane)
I get in the dumps at times, and don't open my mouth for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and I'll soon be right. (A Study in Scarlet) (that one really, REALLY fits) --Sherlock Holmes
"'And I,' said Legolas, 'shall walk in the woods of this fair land, which is rest enough. In days to come, if my Elven-lord allows, some of our folk shall remove hither; and when we come it shall be blessed, for a while. For a while: a month, a life, a hundred years of Men. But Anduin is near, and Anduin leads down to the Sea. To the Sea!
To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying, The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying, West, west away, the round sun is falling. Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling, The voices of my people that have gone before me? I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me; For our days are ending and our years failing. I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing. Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling, Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling, In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover, Where the leaves fall not: land of my people forever!'