Black script lettering tattoo along the side of the ribs reading though every dark night there is a brighter day.

Script quote along the side ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a black script quotation tattooed in two lines along the side of the ribcage, reading though every dark night there is a brighter day. The lettering uses fine, slightly slanted strokes with even spacing. The skin is shown in warm tones against a cream lace waistband and a pale, softly lit background.

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 at St Aldred's still smelled of floor polish and weak squash, and the same urn rattled in the corner as it had in 1998. Mrs Pennock sat beside it with a name badge written in felt tip, as if anyone here might have forgotten her. She had taught us Latin and sarcasm in equal measure, and she was the only teacher who had never once raised her voice.

Keep reading

Nobody needed to ask who had written the line on the whiteboard in the corner of the hall. Every Monday she had copied it into the top margin of our mock papers in that small, slanting hand: though every dark night there is a brighter day. We mocked it, because we were fifteen and mockery was cheaper than hope. Gary Tilling claimed she'd got it from a biscuit tin. Nobody believed him, and nobody could explain why half of us still remembered it.

I found her by the fire door. She asked if I'd sorted out the college place, and I said I had, after two rejections and one very unhelpful careers advisor. She nodded as though that was the expected outcome and reached into her handbag. Inside was a battered exercise book with my name on the front in pencil. Halfway through was a poem I had written about a bus stop, and beside the last stanza, in red ink, she'd written: Not yet. But you will.

She slid the book back into her bag, snapped the clasp shut, and went to find a cup of tea she wouldn't drink. I stood by the fire door a while longer, listening to the urn and the scrape of chairs, and I thought about how little a single line can hold when someone else has written it down for you.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.