Wishfulpages

“There's a unique kind of mythmaking with narratives. Girlhood is a story of desire; innocence; fall from innocence; being desired; being not desired; being desired by the wrong people; by dangerous people; by the right people; by excitingly dangerous people. There's so much storytelling in girlhood. There's so much revision in telling it. There will always be something special about fiction. So much of my girlhood was fictive. I lived in my mind. I made up the girl I thought I was. Whether that's delusional or not, I really felt the happiest and safest in my fictional girlhood. I think the girls in these stories are the same way. There's the story of their lives, and there's the story that they're telling.”
― Jenny Zhang

“Take a drink every time you hear a lie.
You're a great cook.
(They say as you burn toast.)
You're so funny.
(You've never told a joke.)
You're so...
... handsome.
... ambitious.
... successful.
... strong.
(Are you drinking yet?)
You're so...
... charming.
... clever.
... sexy.
(Drink.)
So confident.
So shy.
So mysterious.
So open.
You are impossible, a paradox, a collection at odds.
You are everything to everyone.
The son they never had.
The friend they've always wanted.
A generous stranger.
A successful son.
A perfect gentleman.
A perfect partner.
A perfect...
Perfect...
(Drink.)
They love your body.
Your abs.
Your laugh.
The way you smell.
The sound of your voice.
They want you.
(Not you.)
They need you.
(Not you.)
They love you.
(Not you.)
You are whoever they want you to be.
You are more than enough, because you are not real.
You are perfect, because you don't exist.
(Not you.)
(Never You.)
They look at you and see whatever they want...
Because they don't see you at all.”
― V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

“Time moves so fucking fast.
Blink, and you’re halfway through school, paralyzed by the idea that whatever you choose to do, it means choosing not to do a hundred other things”
― V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

“He’d blinked and somehow years had gone by, and everyone else had carved their trenches, paved their paths, and he was still standing in a field, uncertain where to dig.”
― V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue