Black fine line script tattoo reading These violent delights have violent ends runs along a forearm.

Handwritten quote script along a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a forearm carrying a single line of black handwritten script that reads These violent delights have violent ends. The linework is thin and even, with the letters sitting in a slightly slanted, cursive style. The skin is pale and the background is softly out of focus, with denim and a dark top visible at the edge of the frame.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Quote Script Handwriting Text

Find an artist for this

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

Dear Maud, I have your letter and read it twice at the kitchen table, once for the news about your hip and once for the part where you ask whether I still keep the prompt book. I do. It sits on the shelf above the kettle, its spine gone soft as bread, and on the inside back cover in my own pencil is a line I wrote the spring the Ashby Players opened Romeo and Juliet in the Corn Exchange.

Keep reading

You will remember Pearl Ansty, who was understudy and kept the bakery counter on Mill Street. She went down with the flu on the Tuesday, so Irene Coyle went on with a fever and a voice like a rusted gate. In the balcony scene the lamp on the trestle buzzed, the wire spat blue, and the whole hall went dark for four long breaths. Irene dried. I was in the prompt corner with my knees against the cold boards, and I gave her the line in a whisper she could just catch. She took it and carried on as though the dark had been her own idea.

Afterwards she sat in the dressing room with a damp towel round her neck and laughed at herself. "These violent delights have violent ends," she said, in her Friar voice, and then said the old fool had it right and the rest of us were too young to listen. I wrote it down that night because it seemed the only sensible thing anyone had said all week, and because I thought I might forget how she said it.

Tell Walter the Corn Exchange still smells of size and sawdust, and that I have not once been tempted back on the boards. Mind that hip. Yours in haste, Edie.