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High Fidelity
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Feb 27, 2026 07:39AM

 
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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

Jeffrey Eugenides
“We felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together. We knew that the girls were our twins, that we all existed in space like animals with identical skins, and that they knew everything about us though we couldn’t fathom them at all. We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.”
Jeffrey Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides

Haruki Murakami
“It's hard to tell the difference between sea and sky, between voyager and sea. Between reality and the workings of the heart.”
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

Haruki Murakami
“It's because of you when I'm in bed in the morning that I can wind my spring and tell myself I have to live another good day.”
Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

Clarice Lispector
“And now -- now it only remains for me to light a cigarette and go home. Dear God, only now am I remembering that people die. Does that include me?
Don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.”
Clarice Lispector

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