fu-Inlé

all good devils masquerade under the light

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October Country … that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and mid-nights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain… .
― Ray Bradbury, The October Country (via clavicle-moundshroud)

Filed under Ray Bradbury The October Country