“I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it but I didn’t. Not really. Only the smudginess of it, the pink slippered all contained semiprecious eagerness of it. I didn’t realise it sometimes would be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea, because it’s the halves that halve you in half. I didn’t know; don’t know about the in-between bits of it. The gory bits of you and the gory bits of me.”
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The Tunisian Bookies
— 208 members
— last activity Jan 08, 2018 02:30PM
A group of five Tunisian bookstagrammers decided to unite to create the perfect Book Club for you! We'll be doing readalongs, challenges and reviews f ...more
Farah’s 2025 Year in Books
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