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Banal Nightmare
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by Halle Butler (Goodreads Author)
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Apr 23, 2026 01:43AM

 
On the Savage Side
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by Tiffany McDaniel (Goodreads Author)
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  (page 27 of 464)
May 04, 2026 10:11PM

 
Book cover for Still Missing
I think people can be so crushed, so broken, that they’ll never be anything more than a fragment of a whole person.
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Sylvia Plath
“There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.”
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Elena Ferrante
“she was explaining to me that I had won nothing, that in the world there is nothing to win, that her life was full of varied and foolish adventures as much as mine, and that time simply slipped away without any meaning, and it was good just to see each other every so often to hear the mad sound of the brain of one echo in the mad sound of the brain of the other.”
Elena Ferrante, The Story of a New Name

Joan Didion
“Everything goes. I am working very hard at not thinking about how everything goes.”
Joan Didion, Play It As It Lays

Sylvia Plath
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Ottessa Moshfegh
“Sleep felt productive. Something was getting sorted out. I knew in my heart—this was, perhaps, the only thing my heart knew back then—that when I'd slept enough, I'd be okay. I'd be renewed, reborn. I would be a whole new person, every one of my cells regenerated enough times that the old cells were just distant, foggy memories. My past life would be but a dream, and I could start over without regrets, bolstered by the bliss and serenity that I would have accumulated in my year of rest and relaxation.”
Ottessa Moshfegh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation

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