There is a movement happening, a quiet one. A low-profile, low-resolution revolution. Comprised of writers and dreamers, of guerrilla artists and thought-ninjas. Those with something to say. They communicate through text inscribed on true public spaces, rather than blogs and forums. Choosing fewer words, even without being bound by 140 character limits. Using ink instead of pixels. Sending messages in living, breathing space. Pens scream louder into the void. Even if permanent ink is not aptly named.
Erin MorgensternI believe you have my umbrella" he says, almost out of breath but wearing a grin that has too much wolf in it to be properly sheepish.
Erin MorgensternSting told me if I love somebody I should set them free. I doubt Sting ever loved anyone with wings. If he did he might rethink such a stupid sentiment. I suppose the point is to wait for your love to come back to you voluntarily. I wonder if thereโs a difference between setting something free and letting it go? I probably did it wrong. I should stop taking advice from my radio. I worry that youโre lost. I keep a heart-shaped cage unlocked for you, out on the street where it can easily be seen. So if one day you return at least youโll have a place to stay.
Erin MorgensternI'm a firm believer that lighting affects mood, and twinkly lights on strings bring something magical to occasions ranging from concerts to weddings, though I'm fond of using them as year-round home decor. There's a reason why they're sometimes called fairy lights. When the night is right, there aren't any strings at all.
Erin MorgensternTaking his time, as though he has all of it in the world, in the universe, from the days when tales meant more than they do now, but perhaps less than they will someday, he draws a breath that releases the tangled knot of words in his heart, and they fall from his lips effortlessly. "The circus arrives without warning.
Erin Morgenstern