booky stuff !

“No, that was not right either. We were not in a house at all, but in the forest. We had snuck away with each other to an evergreen forest, two daughters of the shtetl, friends since childhood. We had snuck away in the dark of night so that we could have the whole forest floor to ourselves to make love. We had just fucked. We had fucked each other in our skirts. We had fucked each other in mutual desire and now we were lying on the forest floor curled up together, two girls in pine needles, under starlight. This was the definition of holy. Tell the village matchmaker not to bother with us. Here in the forest there was no potato smell, no porgroms. Only the scent of evergreens.”
― Melissa Broder, Milk Fed

“What about holding hands in a movie theater? Can girls hold hands in a movie theater?”
― Melissa Broder, Milk Fed

“I had no idea how to be a mom, let alone my own mother. But what about daughterhood? Was it possible that I could be my own daughter? This seemed more doable. I wondered if the universe, in its roundness, somehow already contained my daughterness. Perhaps I'd been being held there, a daughter all along, until I woke up to it. If I could not be my own mother—or at least not the kind of mother worth having—then maybe I could be my own daughter.”
― Melissa Broder, Milk Fed

“I imagined googling, How to make a golem fall in love with you. Maybe that’s all that prayer was anyway—a cosmic google. In that case, any iPhone could be a synagogue. I wished I could FaceTime with Rabbi Judah.”
― Melissa Broder, Milk Fed