Black lettering tattoo of a four-line quote in a blackletter style, running along the side of a person's ribs.

Quote tattoo along the ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a four-line text tattoo in black ink on the side of the torso, set in a serif blackletter-style typeface. The lettering is crisp and evenly weighted, with solid fill and clean edges. The text is centred on the ribcage and the composition is cropped tightly, with a hand and ring visible at the top edge.

Lettering Ribs Quote Text Lettering

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

The sports hall smelt of floor polish and warm crisps, and Neil Farrant had been standing by the squash-cordial table for twenty minutes before anyone recognised him. Then Carol Ashdown, who had once paid him in Quavers for his maths homework, came across with a paper plate and told him he looked like a man who had been somewhere. "Only Scarborough," he said. "Twice."

Keep reading

Miss Oduya had been the only teacher who let them write on the back wall of Room 9. Her card still hung above the sink, a line copied out in gold felt-tip that none of them had understood at fourteen. Neil had assumed it was about the boys who skipped lessons to wander down by the Marina. He had never thought it was about him. Carol read it aloud, getting the second half slightly wrong, and laughed until she had to put her plate down.

Miss Oduya arrived late, in a green coat, leaning on a silver stick. She did not remember most of them, but she went straight to Neil and asked whether he still had the jotter. He did. It was in the car, with a road atlas of the Dales and a pressed sprig of heather tucked into the spine. When he fetched it, she turned to the inside cover, where in his twelve-year-old capitals he had written the same line, and beneath it, crossed out, a plan to leave Hull for good.

"You were always going to come back," she said, tapping the page. "That's not the same thing as being lost." Neil opened his mouth, found nothing useful to say, and went to get her a cup of tea from the urn. When he returned with it, she had already gone to the window, and the only sign she had been there was the gold card still turning slowly above the sink in the draught from the open door.