Two inner wrists with black script lettering: 'always be true' on the left and 'Love with passion' with a small heart on the right.

Matching wrist script quotes

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two inner wrists are shown side by side, each carrying a line of black script lettering. The left wrist reads 'always be true' with a large swash capital T, and the right reads 'Love with passion' with a small heart above the word Love. The ink is solid black and grey with clean, even linework against light skin, and the two pieces are arranged to mirror each other across the frame.

Lettering Forearm Script Lettering Word Heart Love Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The Harbour Rest and the Mariners' Arms stood across Cobble Lane from each other, and in the summer of the great herring year their owners stopped speaking. Mrs Sayer kept the Harbour Rest. Her husband had gone off with a coal carter's widow, and the widow had taken rooms at the Mariners', so the two women had not nodded to each other since Whitsun.

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Old Tobias Wren painted the signs for every shop in Thornmouth, and both women paid him to paint a board for their door. Each board was to say the same thing in a different way. He sat on a trestle in the lane for three days with his brushes and a tin of black, and he asked no questions. Across the Harbour Rest he painted always be true in long swelling capitals, with a tail on the T that curled down toward the bins. Across the Mariners' he painted love with passion, small and neat, with a heart above the word Love where the paint had pooled.

On the fourth morning the two women came out at once, each carrying a cup of tea, and stood in the lane reading. Nobody remembers what either of them said. Mrs Sayer looked at the heart and Mrs Carter looked at the tail, and they both laughed at the same moment, the way people do when they have been caught being foolish. Tobias packed his trestle and took his pay, and by winter the boards faced each other across the cobbles, so that whichever door you opened, you read the other one first.

Tobias kept his tin of black on the windowsill of his workshop for the rest of his life. When the herring failed and the lane went quiet, the two boards still faced each other in the wet light, the lettering as clear as the day he finished it.