“I want you to write like Alice Munro. Stir the world. Make people see the horror; show them their suffering relatives; show them that they’re not safe. Let them know that they can’t even begin to imagine what’s happening here. By making my reality more compelling than reality television is the only way you’ll get their attention.
Psychotic and cynical.
Who can tell the difference anymore between a severed head and a special effect? Can you? I doubt it, and I know you’ve been in the middle of it all and seen the damage first-hand.”
― Magenta
Psychotic and cynical.
Who can tell the difference anymore between a severed head and a special effect? Can you? I doubt it, and I know you’ve been in the middle of it all and seen the damage first-hand.”
― Magenta
“What the hell, if you are going to roll the dice with Lucifer, I say go the distance.”
― Death Leaves a Shadow
― Death Leaves a Shadow
“Mr Churchill caught the end of one of the long ribbons from her bonnet, which were flying madly in the strong breeze. He toyed with it for a long while, then looked up into her eyes. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked.
“No, I don’t suppose I do,” Jane answered. Her heart started beating harder. That was a lie. Maybe her breath was catching in her throat because she was lying: she fell in love with him the moment she saw him, rescuing the poor store clerk. Or maybe it was because he was standing so close to her, just on the other end of her bonnet ribbon. She felt her cheeks growing warm, and tried to talk herself out of blushing. He was not standing any closer to her than when they danced together, or sat on the same bench at the pianoforte. Why should it fluster her that he was wrapping the end of her bonnet ribbon around his fingers like that?”
― My Dearest Miss Fairfax
“No, I don’t suppose I do,” Jane answered. Her heart started beating harder. That was a lie. Maybe her breath was catching in her throat because she was lying: she fell in love with him the moment she saw him, rescuing the poor store clerk. Or maybe it was because he was standing so close to her, just on the other end of her bonnet ribbon. She felt her cheeks growing warm, and tried to talk herself out of blushing. He was not standing any closer to her than when they danced together, or sat on the same bench at the pianoforte. Why should it fluster her that he was wrapping the end of her bonnet ribbon around his fingers like that?”
― My Dearest Miss Fairfax
“Angela could not be the bomber, not that sweet, pretty thing. Thing? Is that how she regarded that young woman, as a thing? And what had she ever said to her except "I hear you're getting married, Angela" or "How pretty you look, Angela." Had anyone asked her about her ideas, her hopes, her plans? If I had been treated like that I'd have used dynamite, not fireworks; no, I would have just walked out and kept right on going. But Angela was different.”
― The Westing Game
― The Westing Game
Mac’s 2025 Year in Books
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