Black fine line script tattoo reading 'everything was beautiful and nothing hurt' across a woman's upper back near the shoulder blade.

Script quote across the shoulder blade

Fine line · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows the back of a shoulder with a two-line script quote in thin black linework. The lettering is flowing and handwritten in style, with even line weight and no shading. The skin is warm toned under soft indoor light, and the blurred background keeps the focus on the text.

Fine line Lettering Shoulder Script Quote Lettering Text

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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

Tom Corran would not let her correct it. Mary Teale had her pen lifted over the paper and the lamp turned low, and he sat with his cap on his knee, watching the yard window as if his brother might walk past it. Write it as I said, he told her: everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. She told him it was not a thing a man could post to someone who had shared a cold barn and a bad winter with him at Harrow Lea. Tom said that was the reason he wanted it sent.

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So she wrote it, in the careful joined hand the schoolmistress had beaten into her, and the loops of the long words ran into one another the way the lane ran down into the river. She did not lift the pen between the words, because Tom said his brother had always hated a letter that stopped and started, and she found she did not mind the sentence being made of one unbroken line. Beneath it she wrote only the weather, the price of ewes, and that the dog had died in March.

The reply came in June, handed across the post office counter in a hand Mary did not know. Tom asked her to read it aloud. His brother wrote that he remembered the barn differently, that the winter had taken two cousins and a horse, and that he had not once stopped hurting since they parted. But he had kept the letter, and would be glad of any other thing Tom remembered kindly.

Tom folded the reply into his breast pocket and asked her to write again the next Thursday. She said she would. She kept the first draft in the drawer under the stamp book, and when she took it out that evening the ink had spread a little at the loops, so the sentence looked as though it had been written in a hurry by someone who was still smiling.