My art is that of the 35mm kind; my poetry is of the lead and ink kind; my happiness is of the product of both; and my legacy is of the story of my soul, that my life left behind
Inking is meditation in liquid form..
There is only as much space, only as much time, Only as much desire, only as many words, Only as many pages, only as much ink To accept all of us at light-speed Hurrying into the Promised Land Of oblivion that is waiting for us sooner or later.
He perched the bat on his shoulder, giving a nod that he understood I needed his help. With one loud yell and a couple swings of the bat, he cleared me another path.
..I deliberately spilled the black ink of despair because my perfect soul was a stained glass illusion - can you understand that?..
Ink, a Drug.
.. There was practically one handwriting common to the whole school when it came to writing lines. It resembled the movements of a fly that had fallen into an ink-pot, and subsequently taken a little brisk exercise on a sheet of foolscap by way of restoring the circulation.
I prefer the pen. There is something elemental about the glide and flow of nib and ink on paper.
I want to drown in all the ink used to write positive things about my clone and how great he is.
And then another letter had come from Christopher, so devastating that Amelia wondered how mere scratches of ink on paper could rip someone's soul to shreds. She had wondered how she could feel so much pain and still survive.
Had I just made a date with a tatted up bat wielding miscreant?
The book did not say anything about a statue, valuable or otherwise, and so I stopped reading about the Bombinating Beast and got interested in the chapter about the Stain'd witches, who had ink instead of blood in their veins. I wondered what they kept in their pens.