Everytime I Read Frankenstein, The Same Line Makes Me Put The Book Down And Stare At The Wall. It’s

Everytime I read Frankenstein, the same line makes me put the book down and stare at the wall. It’s my favorite line in the book; it has its own highlighter color in my annotations. The first time I read it, I literally detoured after my last class just to tell my lit teacher how much I liked the line because I couldn’t wait until second period the next day. Here’s the line:

“Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.”

This is said by the creature. He wanted to live. He wanted to live life so badly even though he had had such a difficult one. He still loved the song of the birds and the smell of the flowers and the joy in the world even if he never got to truly experience that joy. I just. AHHHH.

He wanted to fight for a life he never got to live.

More Posts from Stargazer-forever and Others

stargazer-forever

6 months ago

The Years: All the parties you spent watching the room from a balcony where someone joined you to smoke then returned. And how it turns out no one had the childhood they wanted, and how they’d tell you this a little drunk, a little slant in less time than it took to finish a cigarette because sad things can’t be explained. Behind the glass and inside, all your friends buzzed. You could feel the shape of their voices. You could tell from their eyes they were in some other place. 1999 or 2008 or last June. Of course, it’s important to go to parties. To make life a dress or a drink or suede shoes someone wears in the rain. On the way home, in the car back, the night sky played its old tricks. The stars arranged themselves quietly. The person you thought of drove under them. Away from the party, (just like you) into the years. - Alex Dimitrov

happy new year’s eve <3

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stargazer-forever

2 years ago

Notebooks 1951-1959 By Albert Camus // The Knight Of The Flowers (detail) By Georges Rochegrosse // The

Notebooks 1951-1959 by Albert Camus // The Knight of the Flowers (detail) by Georges Rochegrosse // The Way to Keep Going in Antarctica by Bernadette Mayer // Little Weirds by Jenny Slate // Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre // The Fairy Glen by Steve Gill // The Carrying by Ada Limón // All the Gay Saints by Kayleb Rae Candrilli // Mirrors X by Nikki Giovanni // The Poet by Reynier Llanes // The Wanderings of Oisin by W.B Yeats // Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke // Letter to Gustave Flaubert X by George Sand // When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities by Chen Chen // Waterlilies by Claude Monet

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stargazer-forever

2 years ago

Itsmaeril

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stargazer-forever

2 years ago

you wear an ancestor’s face

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stargazer-forever

2 years ago

tu koi aur hai, janta hai tu

samne iss jahaan ke ek naqab hai.

tu aur hai, koi aur hai.

kyun nhiiii

vo jo hai?

tu jahaan ke vaste

khud ko bhul kar

apne hi sath naa

aise zulm kar.

khol de vo gile

jo lagaye tujh par tu

bol de

tu koi aur hai.

chehre jo

odhe tune vo

tere kahan hai?

saamne aa

khol de sab

jo hai dil mei

bol de ab.

tere raaste

khwaab hai tere.

tere sath jo

umra bhar chale.

aa inhe gale laga

tu kon hai bata?

aa khol de

yeh gile.

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stargazer-forever

2 years ago

~ Emily Dickson

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stargazer-forever

1 year ago

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stargazer-forever

1 year ago

Beauty makes promises that beauty cant keep. I've seen it too many times.

— Cormac McCarthy, The Passenger

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stargazer-forever

1 year ago

Whenever someone asks me how I'm feeling, how old I am or what I like to do in my free time, I feel like an alien who took over some random human's body and now has to prove that they are, in fact, that human.

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stargazer-forever

2 years ago

i log in. i reblog quotes and poems and posts that slice me in half or whatever. i log out

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