From Diane Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale

People disappear when they die. Their voices, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living mempry of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continut to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humour, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.

--Diane Setterfield



Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Oh blogging world, how I love thee.
My world is merrier and I smile more whenI read your comics, hear that my life is normal just like yours and read exciting exploits from favorite authors who are multitasking QUEENS!
Thank Thee!

3 comments:

Bertie said...

I love the blogging world too!:) Your little Jaedyn is getting so big! She is darling:)

Unknown said...

Thanks Bertie!

Janika said...

How would anyone know anything about anyone else if not for blogs?