If you just take the first three stanzas of Longfellow’s Haunted Houses, it’s one of my current favourites (whyyyy can the man not STOP…), and the guests at table is probably my favourite line:
There are more guests at table, than the hosts
Invited; the illuminated hall
Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,
As silent as the pictures on the wall.
I love that sense of creepy domesticity!
Awww, the last Februaryday.But probably my favourite kind of hug!
Because Wudagast‘s Nurgles broke me and now I think everything he does is cute. Sorry, Wudagast!
Oh, and actual I-mean-it-apologies for my utter inability to draw weaponry!
Hugging someone so that they can better throw up on you… do other mammals do this?!
I am not sure this still counts as a hug.
Further down and it turns into a Heimlichhug.