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“Do you still think like that? The exit-strategy thing,” she asks.
“Sort of, I guess? It’s different now; it’s not urgent like it used to be. It’s more like a habit, if that makes sense?” I glance at her face. “You know how some people go to movie theaters and have to find all the emergency exits, or they go out to eat and have to face the door no matter what, and half the time they don’t even realize they’re doing it?”
She nods, but kind of slowly, hesitant.
“That’s how it is, just like a glitch in the comfort matrix or something. Something my brain tosses out there, and I’m like, ‘Cool, thanks for the suggestion, but maybe we could just play a video game instead.’ It’s just crossed lines. It’s fine.”
― Verona Comics
“Sort of, I guess? It’s different now; it’s not urgent like it used to be. It’s more like a habit, if that makes sense?” I glance at her face. “You know how some people go to movie theaters and have to find all the emergency exits, or they go out to eat and have to face the door no matter what, and half the time they don’t even realize they’re doing it?”
She nods, but kind of slowly, hesitant.
“That’s how it is, just like a glitch in the comfort matrix or something. Something my brain tosses out there, and I’m like, ‘Cool, thanks for the suggestion, but maybe we could just play a video game instead.’ It’s just crossed lines. It’s fine.”
― Verona Comics
“But now mystery had brushed them with her wing; they had heard the voice of authority; the spirit of religion was abroad with her eyes bandaged tight and her lips gaping wide.”
― Mrs. Dalloway
― Mrs. Dalloway
“Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure; and, in my choyce,
To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heav'n.”
― Paradise Lost
Here we may reign secure; and, in my choyce,
To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heav'n.”
― Paradise Lost
“We hurt each other because it's the only way we're permitted to show our anger. When our choices are taken from us, the fire builds within. Sometimes I feel like we might burn down the world to cindery bits, with our love, our rage, and everything in between”
― The Grace Year
― The Grace Year
“Her voice is filled with distant sonorities, like reverberations in a cave: now you are at the place of annihilation, now you are at the place of annihilation. And she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.' Can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?' She draws her long, sharp fingernail across the bars of the cage in which her pet lark sings, striking a plangent twang like that of the plucked heartstrings of a woman of metal. Her hair falls down like tears.”
― The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories
― The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories
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