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Quote by Lucian Bane

“Every human act had a power behind it, every power had an authority, and every authority had a purpose-dirty bombs constituted by free will and amended by angelic and demonic influence unto the driving of humanity-it was very much active directing. ~RUIN Katara Aggelos”

Quote by Lucian Bane

Book:The Judgement
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The Judgement

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Lucian Bane

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“Like perhaps most people whose loved ones have died, I wish that I had some guarantees about the afterlife. I wish I were absolutely certain that my father and uncle are now together in some tranquil and restful place, sharing endless walks and talks beyond what their too-few and too-short visits allowed. I wish I knew that they were offering enough comfort to one another to allow them both not to remember their distressing, even excruciating, last hours and days. I wish I could fully make sense of the fact that they’re now sharing a gravesite and a tombstone in Queens, New York,after living apart for more than thirty years.In any case, every now and then I try to imagine them on a walk through the mountains of Beauséjour. It’s dawn, a dazzling morning over the green hills. The sun is slowly rising, burning through the fog. They’re peacefully making their way down the zigzag trail that joins the villages to the rest of the world below. And in my imagining, whenever they lose track of one another, one or the other calls out in a voice that echoes throughout the hills, “Kote w ye frè m?” Brother, where are you? And the other one quickly answers, “Mwen la. Right here, brother. I’mright here.”

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Book:Brother, I'm Dying
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“He took me between his knees and shuffled some photographs before my eyes with his dextorous hands, showing me images of naked women and boys in strange positions. I leant against him and peered at those delicate human bodies with distant, unseeing eyes, as the fluid of a vague agitation that had suddenely clouded the air reached me, running through me in a shiver of anxiety, a wave of sudden understanding. In the meantime, the haze of a smile that had appeared under his soft, beautiful moustache, the germ of desire that had stretched across his temple in a pulsing vein, the tension holding his features together for a momenr, fell back into nothingness, and his face departed into absence, forgot itself, and disintegrated.”

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Author:Bruno Schulz
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“Review of Marlowe by Goodness C Nwaogazie 2023 "One thing I loved about the story was how well the author depicted Marlowe's life, reasoning, challenges, and adventures. This story shares the obstacles and triumphs that the family experiences together with Marlowe’s involvement." "The reader can see clearly and understand how it was affected by events so much that one begins to think Marlowe is human." "I recommend this book for lovers of action or adventure books, and young adult readers ages twelve and above. It will also make a great read for fantasy readers, as it tells a unique story.”

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Book:MARLOWE
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“There is a scene I love where a brother and sister meet after many years and little communication. They meet in an arranged café in mid-afternoon. The light is dying and the city outside rumbles softly in the complacent time before rush hour. The café is unexceptional and quiet. She comes first, sits at the far end, a table facing the door, nervous in her buttoned raincoat. The waiter is an older man. He leaves her be. The brother enters late with the look but not the words of apology. He kisses her cheek. They sit and the old man brings them teas they do not want, two pots, strong for him weak for her. It is long ago since they said each other’s names aloud, and saying them now has the extraordinary shyness of encounter I imagine on the Last Day. At first there is the full array of human awkwardness. But here is the thing: almost in an instant their old selves are immediately present. The years and the changes are nothing. They need few words. They recognise each other in each other, and even in silence the familiarity is powerfully consoling, because despite time and difference there remains that deep-river current, that kind of maybe communion that only exists within people joined in the word family. So now what washes up between them, foam-white and fortifying and quite unexpectedly, is love. I cannot remember what book it is in. But it’s in this one now.”

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“Four-leaf clovers," she said. "I've been finding them everywhere, in the oddest places." Star stepped out of the garden bed and gently plucked the clover from Georgia's hand, pinching it between her fingers. "Well, look at that," she said softly. She glanced at Georgia. "My grandma Emma was Irish, raised near Galway---that's where our red hair comes from--- and she loved four-leaf clovers. Always felt they connected her with the country of her birth.”

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Book:Recipe for a Charmed Life
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