The Beauty of Belief

"Prologue A Silence of Three Parts It was night again. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was..."

Sat, 25 May 2013 11:40:26 -0500

“

Prologue

A Silence of Three Parts

It was night again. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.

The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumns leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamour one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music….but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained.

Inside the Waystone a pair of men huddled at one corner of the bar. They drank with quiet determination, avoiding serious discussions of troubling news. In doing this they added a small, sullen silence to the larger, hollow one. It made an alloy of sorts, a counterpoint.

The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened for an hour, you might begin to feel it in the wooden floor underfoot and in the rough, splintering barrels behind the bar. It was in the weight of the black stone hearth that held the heat of a long-dead fire. It was in the slow back and forth of a white linen cloth rubbing along the grain of the bar. And it was in the hands of the man who stood there, polishing a stretch of mahogany that already gleamed in the lamplight.

The man had true-red hair, red as flame. His eyes were dark and distant, and he moved with the subtle certainty that comes from knowing many things.

The Waystone was his, just as the third silence was his. This was appropriate as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the others inside itself. It was deep and wide as autumn’s ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.

”

- The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss (via geekiness-galore)

x-enial: Auroraville by *torivarn

Sat, 25 May 2013 10:20:27 -0500

x-enial:

Auroraville by *torivarn

creatingaquietmind replied to your post: creatingaquietmind replied to your post: So… *le...

Sat, 25 May 2013 08:38:13 -0500

creatingaquietmind replied to your post: creatingaquietmind replied to your post: So…

*le sigh* you are adorable

I am pretty awesome!

creatingaquietmind replied to your post: So early.. and I’ve already been up for 3 hours! Mike woke...

Sat, 25 May 2013 08:17:32 -0500

creatingaquietmind replied to your post: So early.. and I’ve already been up for 3 hours!

Mike woke up early on a Sat?

I’m doing something incredible nerdy :-P

Like playing dnd online with friends in England and Japan ;-)

So early.. and I’ve already been up for 3 hours!

Sat, 25 May 2013 08:00:57 -0500

So early.. and I’ve already been up for 3 hours!

I'm afraid that I'm out of beer :(

Fri, 24 May 2013 22:17:20 -0500

You and me both, darlin’.

I wanted to talk with you today, but I didn’t know what to say.Rather than say something...

Fri, 24 May 2013 22:06:51 -0500

I wanted to talk with you today, but I didn’t know what to say.
Rather than say something wrong,
I said nothing at all, silent with a screaming mind.

I really worry that I'm a narcissist.

Fri, 24 May 2013 22:02:27 -0500

I spend an inane amount of time worrying over my physical appearance, only to do nothing about it. I fear this apathy will spread to other parts of my life (and is has).

When people say nice things about me, I feel like I've tricked them somehow into thinking I'm a good person, when I'm not.

Fri, 24 May 2013 21:56:31 -0500

I purposefully act like an ass, just so people won’t say nice things about me. I like how surprised they look when I do something genuinely nice that they weren’t expecting.

I have a compulsive habit where I pick constantly at whatever I can get my hands on- bumps on my arm, blemishes on my face, split ends or knots in my hair. This is constant and it makes me anxious if I see something I can pick at but can't get to.

Fri, 24 May 2013 21:49:57 -0500

I pick at my cuticles all the time… I hate it, but it doesn’t stop me.

Confess something in my ask on anon.

Fri, 24 May 2013 21:42:32 -0500

.

Fri, 24 May 2013 21:16:04 -0500

I got home and the two largest branches on my basil plant were snapped :-/ This makes me sad. Now I...

Fri, 24 May 2013 18:31:48 -0500

I got home and the two largest branches on my basil plant were snapped :-/

This makes me sad.

Now I have to figure out what to do with two huge stalks of basil.

(Make pesto?)

Photo

Fri, 24 May 2013 12:37:01 -0500

artforadults: The Real You by chamosan | tumblr

Fri, 24 May 2013 11:40:23 -0500

artforadults:

The Real You by chamosan | tumblr

fer1972: Fabergé Fractals by Tom Beddard

Fri, 24 May 2013 10:20:23 -0500

fer1972:

Fabergé Fractals by Tom Beddard

…. its because he was Sylar. One of the creepiest serial...

Fri, 24 May 2013 00:08:51 -0500

…. its because he was Sylar. One of the creepiest serial killers in years!

My feels, oh god. I know, 22 minutes. Way too long for a tumblr...

Thu, 23 May 2013 23:01:27 -0500

My feels, oh god.

I know, 22 minutes. Way too long for a tumblr attention span.

But watch it. Watch. it.

chasingcomics: The Man Who Lives Alone My Intro to Comics final...

Thu, 23 May 2013 19:02:41 -0500

chasingcomics:

The Man Who Lives Alone

My Intro to Comics final about ghosts and love.

Photo

Thu, 23 May 2013 11:41:40 -0500