Brooke

“The same man who wrote those words, those characters, just scratched himself. He’s reading my first chapter, in the midst of my freaking love story, and reached down, his hand gripping the front of his pants, the action one without thought, a disgusting habit that he probably does ten times a day. This is why I avoid men. This is why I avoid people in general. We are a disgusting, foul race, only a few centuries past smearing our faces with feces and dancing for rain.”
― A.R. Torre, The Ghostwriter

“That they’re dangerous women. Women who can’t control themselves. Who don’t know the right way to love.”
― Jessamine Chan, The School for Good Mothers

“I can’t lose the thing I’ve held onto for so long, you know?” My face twists up from the pain of pushing it out. “I just really need it to be a love story, you know? I really, really need it to be that.”
“I know,” she says.
“Because if it isn’t a love story, then what is it”? I look to her glassy eyes, her face of wide open empathy. “It’s my life,” I say. “This has been my whole life.”
― Kate Elizabeth Russell, My Dark Vanessa