#shapes

And again there are no words. Words exist that can, used by a poet, achieve a dim monochrome of the body's love, but beyond that they fail clumsily. My love flowed out to her, hers back to me. Mine stroked and soothed. Hers caressed. The distance - and the difference - between us dwindled and vanished. We could meet, mingle, and blend. Neither one of us existed any more; for a time there was a single being that was both. There was escape from the solitary cell; a brief symbiosis, sharing all the word ... ↗

— John Wyndham

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#thought-shapes #love

So...I suggest you try and get control over your more unusual nature, see if you can't coax those claws away, and I'll try very, very hard not to throw up over what's left of your shoes. How does that sound? ↗

— Kate Griffin

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#matthew-swift #shapeshifter #nature

Nothing can happen nowhere. The locale of the happening always colours the happening, and often, to a degree, shapes it. ↗

— Elizabeth Bowen

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#colours #degree #happen #happening #nothing