“Almost every woman I have ever met has a secret belief that she is just on the edge of madness, that there is some deep, crazy part within her, that she must be on guard constantly against ‘losing control’ — of her temper, of her appetite, of her sexuality, of her feelings, of her ambition, of her secret fantasies, of her mind.”
― Sinister Wisdom 36: Surviving Psychiatric Assault & Creating Emotional Well-Being in Our Communities
― Sinister Wisdom 36: Surviving Psychiatric Assault & Creating Emotional Well-Being in Our Communities
“When was it I realized that, on this truly dark and solitary path we all walk, the only way we can light is our own? Although I was raised with love, I was always lonely.
Someday, without fail, everyone will disappear, scattered into the blackness of time.”
― Kitchen
Someday, without fail, everyone will disappear, scattered into the blackness of time.”
― Kitchen
“As I grow older, much older, I will experience many things, and I will hit rock bottom again and again. Again and again I will suffer; again and again I will get back on my feet. I will not be defeated. I won't let my spirit be destroyed.”
― Kitchen
― Kitchen
“We were hockey gypsies, heading down another gravel road every weekend, plowing into the heart of that magnificent northern landscape. We never gave a thought to being deprived as we travelled, to being shut out of the regular league system. We never gave a thought to being Indian. Different. We only thought of the game and the brotherhood that bound us together off the ice, in the van, on the plank floors of reservation houses, in the truck stop diners where if we'd won we had a little to splurge on a burger and soup before we hit the road again. Small joys. All of them tied together, entwined to form an experience we would not have traded for any other. We were a league of nomads, mad for the game, mad for the road, mad for ice and snow, an Arctic wind on our faces and a frozen puck on the blade of our sticks.”
― Indian Horse
― Indian Horse
“Late in the evenings I’d walk into the trees, stride through the bush until I was wrapped in it, cocooned. The stars that pinwheeled above spun a thousand light years away. Time, mystery, departure and union were there all at once. I wondered if this was what it meant to be Indian, Ojibway. A ritual. A ceremony, ancient and simple and personal. If I could have borne it with me into the day-to-day life of the camp, things might have been different.”
― Indian Horse
― Indian Horse
classical philosophy appreciation club
— 5 members
— last activity May 08, 2024 07:12PM
A club where we discuss nihilism and epistemology only.
Emma’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Emma’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
More friends…
Favorite Genres
Polls voted on by Emma
Lists liked by Emma

























