From Jan Bakelants' Instagram Story. They Were Obsessed With The Tiny Cone.

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FILIPPO GANNA, REMCO EVENEPOEL & WOUT VAN AERT ‹ Paris 2024 Olympics - Cycling Road: Men's ITT ›

Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)

Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

When I was “I want him” about a male character im not saying I wanna fuck him. I want him like a spoiled little girl wants a pony, I want to him so I can put him on my shelf for safekeeping, I want him like a good hearty stew on a winter’s evening, I want to put him in a jar and shake it.

Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.

Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

"Watched the aerial bliss of coupled dragonflies. Even heard their wings, an ecstatic sound like paper flaps in bicycle spokes. Gazed on a slowworm exploring a miniature Amazonia around the roots where I lay. Silent? Not altogether, no. Was woken much later, by first spots of rain. Cumulonimbi were reaching critical mass. Sprinted back to Zedelghem as fast as I'll ever run again, just to hear the rushing roar in my ear canals and feel the first fat droplets pound my face like xylophone hammers."

Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell