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Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
“And so it goes...”
Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

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

Ray Bradbury
“How do you get so empty? he wondered. Who takes it out of you?”
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
“People aren’t supposed to look back. I’m certainly not going to do it anymore.”
Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

Daphne du Maurier
“I wondered why it was that places are so much lovelier when one is alone. How commonplace and stupid it would be if I had a friend now, sitting beside me, someone I had known at school, who would say: “By-the-way, I saw old Hilda the other day. You remember her, the one who was so good at tennis. She’s married, with two children.” And the bluebells beside us unnoticed, and the pigeons overhead unheard. I did not want anyone with me. Not even Maxim. If Maxim had been there I should not be lying as I was now, chewing a piece of grass, my eyes shut. I should have been watching him, watching his eyes, his expression. Wondering if he liked it, if he was bored. Wondering what he was thinking. Now I could relax, none of these things mattered. Maxim was in London. How lovely it was to be alone again.”
Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca

year in books
Khushboo
68 books | 7 friends

Lisa Th...
115 books | 15 friends

Meag Th...
35 books | 14 friends

cailey
372 books | 24 friends

Iyana
104 books | 5 friends





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