Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life … Life holds the mirror up to Art, and either reproduces some strange type imagined by painter or sculptor, or realizes in fact what has been dreamed in fiction.
“My hunger, my thirst, my loneliness and boredom and fear were all weapons aimed at my enemy, the world.
They didn’t matter a whit to the world, of course, and they tormented me, but I got a gruesome satisfaction from my sufferings.”
― Girl, Interrupted
They didn’t matter a whit to the world, of course, and they tormented me, but I got a gruesome satisfaction from my sufferings.”
― Girl, Interrupted
“Our hospital was famous and housed many great poets and singers. Did the hospital specialize in poets and singers or was it that poets and singers specialized in madness?”
― Girl, Interrupted
― Girl, Interrupted
“As I walked, I pictured the salt air and the endless water stretching out, covering the houses, crashing over the freeways, drowning out the voices of men who wish for you not to love them and the sounds of girls crying into pillows, oceans dripping from their eyes.”
― Excavation
― Excavation
“All wisdom ends in paradox.”
― The Virgin Suicides
― The Virgin Suicides
“It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house, with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.”
― The Virgin Suicides
― The Virgin Suicides
maria’s 2025 Year in Books
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