domingo, 15 de fevereiro de 2015

Deliciosa Leitura Fantástica (56)

It was octarine, the colour of magic. It was alive and glowing and vibrant and it was the undisputed pigment of the imagination, because wherever it appeared it was a sign that mere matter was a servant of the powers of the magical mind. It was enchantment itself.
But Rincewind always thought it looked a sort of greenish-purple. 

The Color of Magic, Terry Pratchett

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