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stonefruits.bsky.social
rachel
@stonefruits.bsky.social
480 followers 200 following 1.6K posts
she/her, librarian & semi-retired classicist • posting about the roman republic, translation, fandom, and etc • MILF (Man I Love Fruit) • writing at https://deadlanguages.substack.com/
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stonefruits.bsky.social
me logging onto social media every day (ad atticum 2.23)
As for me (a subject on which I am sure you are anxious to be informed),
November 30, 2025 at 1:16 AM
stonefruits.bsky.social
AFTER THE FIRE You ever think you could cry so hard that there'd be nothing left in you, like how the wind shakes a tree in a storm until every part of it is run through with wind? I live in the low parts now, most days a little hazy with fever and waiting for the water to stop shivering out of the body. Funny thing about grief, its hold is so bright and determined like a flame, like something almost worth living for.
November 29, 2025 at 11:33 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
He shakes his head. 'You'll live.' He once thought it himself, that he might die of grief: for his wife, his daughters, his sisters, his father and master the cardinal. But the pulse, obdurate, keeps its rhythm. You think you cannot keep breathing, but your ribcage has other ideas, rising and falling, emitting sighs. You must thrive in spite of yourself; and so that you may do it, God takes out your heart of flesh, and gives you a heart of stone.
November 29, 2025 at 11:30 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
"We all survive more than we think we can," Didion says of living on after the deaths of her loved ones. “We imagine things — that we wouldn't be able to survive, but in fact, we do survive. ... We have no choice, so we do it."
November 29, 2025 at 11:29 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
one thing about me is that i hate having long nails—it’s a sensory ick. but in a strange mourning ritual i have not cut my nails since b died and they do look really good now
my hand against a grey wall. my nails are painted a dark chocolate color
November 24, 2025 at 5:46 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
fondly thinking of the time tullia apparently told her dad to try shutting up
Publius sane diserto epilogo criminans mentis iudicum moverat. Hortalus in ea causa fuit cuius modi solet. Nos verbum nullum; verita est enim pusilla, quae nunc laborat, ne animum Publi offenderem. Publius, in making the case for the prosecution, moved the jury with a truly eloquent peroration. Hortalus, in this case, was in his usual form. Not a word from me: my little girl, who is now in some distress, was afraid that I might offend Publius.
November 20, 2025 at 5:30 AM
stonefruits.bsky.social
this is one of my favorite lines in all of roman oratory
and if any of these very minor things give offense—his shade of purple, his troops of friends, his glitter, his glamour—all of these things will soon cool down; soon age, experience, and time will soften it all.
November 3, 2025 at 9:19 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
which happens to be a major premise of the pro caelio........... the circle completes itself
article title: THE PERSUASIVE FORCE OF HUMOR: CICERO'S DEFENSE OF CAELIUS
October 27, 2025 at 5:37 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
got a little sign from b tonight 🩷
very dramatic clouds in a blue sky. one of the cloud clusters resembles a heart shape
October 26, 2025 at 12:22 AM
stonefruits.bsky.social
attempting to cope by retranslating catullus 3
c. 3 Mourn, O Venuses and Cupids, and all the beautiful people there are. My girl's sparrow is dead: that sparrow, my girl's darling, whom she loved more than her own eyes. He was honey-sweet and he had known her as well as a girl knows her own mother. He wouldn't move himself from her lap — hopping around now here now there he would chirp constantly to his mistress alone— he who now goes through that dark journey to that place whence they say no one returns. May it go badly for you, wretched shadows of the underworld, you who devour all beautiful things: you have taken such a beautiful sparrow from me. O evil deed! O miserable sparrow! Now because of your work, my girl's swollen little eyes are red from weeping.
October 17, 2025 at 8:03 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
i said goodbye to my baby girl today. it was peaceful and i held her in my arms and that was the last thing she knew. she taught me so much about love. i’m going to miss her forever
my hand holding my dog’s paw
October 14, 2025 at 10:16 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
(depressing background music) i have been thinking about this
According to the novelist Gaius Petronius Arbiter in the first century A.D., the Sibyl used to sit in a bottle suspended from the roof, and when someone asked what she wanted she replied, "I want to die."
October 4, 2025 at 4:20 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
every day is all there is!!!
three ginkgo leaves arranged on a stone. the largest leaf has visible dew drops on it close-up of an apple tree with many small red-green apples still growing a bunch of whole green apples and a ceramic platter with apple slices on it, all on a table covered by a checkered tablecloth. a botanical illustration of an apple is on the table nearby chocolate soft serve ice cream in a cup, sitting on a picnic table. in the background, the ground is covered with fallen yellow leaves
September 28, 2025 at 1:45 AM
stonefruits.bsky.social
this is the first book i’ve read all month and now i’m like My god…. Literature……..
None of it was real; nothing was real. Everything was real; inconceivably real, infinitely dear. These and all things started as nothing, latent within a vast energy-broth, but then we named them, and loved them, and, in this way, brought them forth.
September 28, 2025 at 1:36 AM
stonefruits.bsky.social
harrison ford baby boy evil meme a screencap of harrison ford saying "baby boy. baby." is placed next to a photo of an iced matcha latte. a screencap of harrison ford saying "evil." is placed next to a text box that says "transferring the matcha powder from the bag into my little matcha jar."
September 26, 2025 at 5:39 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
thank you joan didion
INTERVIEWER: There’s a certain esthetic to the way you live. You once talked about using good silver every day. DIDION: Well, every day is all there is.
September 25, 2025 at 4:42 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
found this in my camera roll and i can’t stop laughing
screenshot of a tweet from @jamie_k_wheeler My favorite way to annoy other classicists is by referring to Cicero as Mark T. Garbanzo. It makes him sound like a small-town lawyer. Injured at Work? Extorted in Sicily? Call Mark T. Garbanzo!
September 25, 2025 at 12:42 AM
stonefruits.bsky.social
perfect! but wait a minute
Fragrance Notes Raspberries, Plum, Vanilla, Sandalwood, Oud, Amber, and Musk Fragrance Style Earthy, Woody - Dark, Woody - Spicy, Warm
September 24, 2025 at 11:15 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
perfumers love to put sandalwood in everything
arthur's clenched fist meme
September 24, 2025 at 11:06 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
not just a speech but a play. a tragic comedy if you will
We can see other signs of this tightrope in the longest of the AP selections (30b-50). So our students may be amused to find Cicero's general defense of sowing wild oats in sections 39-43 immediately followed by the orator's protracted denial, in sections, 44-47, that Caelius could ever have done any such thing.
September 22, 2025 at 7:48 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
every time a really cool history professional follows me on here
young michael scott shaking ed truck's hand meme
September 21, 2025 at 9:50 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
that was paraphrased but only a little bit.
We come now to the charge of immorality. Here the prosecution has been long on rumour and gossip, but lamentably short on specific details. And nothing they have said has upset my client enough to make him regret that he is naturally handsome. That sort of talk is the usual lot of any young man who happens to be good-looking. But gossip is one thing, criminal prosecution quite another.
September 21, 2025 at 8:34 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
i’m rereading TVL and this is still the funniest thing lestat ever said
And I only vaguely remember Armand letting me know that Louis was leaving him and he, Armand, did not want to go on. Hollow he sounded. Dry. Yet he gathered the moonlight to him as he stood there. And his voice still had its old resonance, its pure undertone of pain. Poor Armand. And you told me Louis was dead. Go dig a room for yourself under the Lafayette Cemetery. It's just up the street.
September 20, 2025 at 1:59 AM
stonefruits.bsky.social
this time with photo
bowl of food held against a background of orange and purple flowers. the bowl is filled with a stir fry of rice, broccoli, carrots, and tofu (and an uneven distribution of green onion)
September 17, 2025 at 10:57 PM
stonefruits.bsky.social
incredible stuff (ad familiares 3.11)
But if, as you write, the letter was badly expressed, you may be sure I never wrote it. Just as Aristarchus says that a line to which is objects is not Homer’s, so you (I will have my little joke) must never suppose that what is badly expressed was written by me.
September 15, 2025 at 11:41 PM