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The Goldfinch
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  (page 320 of 771)
Dec 28, 2025 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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Joan Didion
“I know what "nothing" means, and keep on playing.”
Joan Didion, Play It As It Lays

Sylvia Plath
“There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.”
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Paul Kalanithi
“That message is simple: When you come to one of the many moments in life when you must give an account of yourself, provide a ledger of what you have been, and done, and meant to the world, do not, I pray, discount that you filled a dying man’s days with a sated joy, a joy unknown to me in all my prior years, a joy that does not hunger for more and more, but rests, satisfied. In this time, right now, that is an enormous thing.”
Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

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
“Rejection, I have found, can be the only antidote to delusion”
Ottessa Moshfegh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation

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