Black linework tattoo of a geometric emblem within a circle, with a quote beneath it, on the inside of a forearm.

Geometric emblem and quote on forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black linework emblem sits on the forearm, with a pointed, leaf-like star shape inside a circle and a twisted, ornamental stem running down from it. Below, a line of serif lettering reads 'All that is gold does not glitter' and the second line, 'Not all those who wander are lost', is cropped at the edge of the frame. The design is in black ink on pale skin against a blurred green background, with a patterned fabric visible at the lower side.

Fine line Geometric Lettering Forearm Emblem Star Circle Leaves Stem Quote Lettering

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down, the lot of you, the urn's only just boiled and Mrs Pargeter has been eyeing the custard creams like a hawk. Who remembers the brass star that vanished from the art room in the summer of 1987? Nobody owned up. Bernard Oakes swore blind it was him, which was a lie, because Bernard could never keep a secret for the length of a bus ride.

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What I never told anyone is that the star was no brass at all. Mrs Hale, who served the puddings in the dining hall, had bought it from a stall in Bath for four pounds, a little silver leaf set in a ring of wire, and she kept it in a biscuit tin under the sink so nobody could marvel at it. The morning it disappeared, a quiet boy called Tomasz Wren, who drew compass roses on his palms during assembly, was found crouching by the bins with the thing cupped in his hands.

He had not stolen it. He had found it in the gutter outside the gate and could not decide whether something that shone so much ought to go to a grown-up or stay with the one who found it. So he hid it in the hedge along Chapel Lane and copied the words his nan used to say about tin and gold onto the inside of his forearm in biro, so he would not forget what he was guarding. Every day that week he walked past the hedge, touched his sleeve, and kept walking.

The hedge came down in 1991 for a car park. Last month a solicitor from Penzance wrote to the school office, enclosing a parcel that held the star, rubbed clean, and a folded note in careful capitals: I KEPT THE WORDS. Mrs Pargeter, you may have the custard creams now. Pass the tin along, and mind the one with the cracked lid, because the star was never in it.