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Quote by John Connolly

Work

The Book of Lost Things: A Novel

This novel intertwines the magical and the real, following a young boy who discovers that the stories he loves are more than just tales; they are living, breathing entities that shape his world. more

Author

John Connolly
John Connolly

John Connolly, born on May 31, 1968, is an Irish author known for his crime and mystery novels. His works are highly appreciated by readers for their unique style and engaging plots. more

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“For these beings, fall is ever the normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth. Such are the autumn people.”

“No longer mourn for me when I am dead than you shall hear the surly sullen bell give warning to the world that I am fled from this vile world with vilest worms to dwell: nay, if you read this line, remember not the hand that writ it, for I love you so, that I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, if thinking on me then should make you woe. O! if, I say, you look upon this verse when I perhaps compounded am with clay, do not so much as my poor name rehearse; but let your love even with my life decay; lest the wise world should look into your moan, and mock you with me after I am gone.”