Shea Crowley

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The Will to Chang...
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Sep 09, 2025 08:18PM

 
Something in the ...
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by Jarod K. Anderson (Goodreads Author)
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Jul 09, 2025 04:53PM

 
Consumed: On Colo...
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  (page 34 of 288)
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See all 40 books that Shea is reading…
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Maggie Stiefvater
“My words are unerring tools of
destruction, and I’ve come unequipped with the ability to disarm them.”
Maggie Stiefvater, The Raven Boys

W.B. Yeats
“I had fallen into a profound dream-like reverie in which I heard him speaking as at a distance. 'And yet there is no one who communes with only one god,' he was saying, 'and the more a man lives in imagination and in a refined understanding, the more gods does he meet with and talk with, and the more does he come under the power of Roland, who sounded in the Valley of Roncesvalles the last trumpet of the body's will and pleasure; and of Hamlet, who saw them perishing away, and sighed; and of Faust, who looked for them up and down the world and could not find them; and under the power of all those countless divinities who have taken upon themselves spiritual bodies in the minds of the modern poets and romance writers, and under the power of the old divinities, who since the Renaissance have won everything of their ancient worship except the sacrifice of birds and fishes, the fragrance of garlands and the smoke of incense. The many think humanity made these divinities, and that it can unmake them again; but we who have seen them pass in rattling harness, and in soft robes, and heard them speak with articulate voices while we lay in deathlike trance, know that they are always making and unmaking humanity, which is indeed but the trembling of their lips.”
W.B. Yeats, Rosa Alchemica

Leigh Bardugo
“The problem with wanting," he whispered, his mouth trailing along my jaw until it hovered over my lips, "is that it makes us weak.”
Leigh Bardugo, Shadow and Bone

W.B. Yeats
“Cast a cold eye
on life, on death
Horseman pass by”
W.E. Yeats

W.B. Yeats
“For he comes, the human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
From a world more full of weeping
than he can understand.”
W. B. YEATS

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