Lavette Rita

“What is boredom? Endless repetitions, like, for example, Navidson’s corridors and rooms, which are consistently devoid of any Myst-like discoveries thus causing us to lose interest. What then makes anything exciting? Or better yet: what is exciting? While the degree varies, we are always excited by anything that engages us, influences us or more simply involves us. In those endlessly repetitive hallways and stairs, there is nothing for us to connect with. That permanently foreign place does not excite us. It bores us. And that is that, except for the fact that there is no such thing as boredom. Boredom is really a psychic defense protecting us from ourselves, from complete paralysis, by repressing, among other things, the meaning of that place, which in this case is and always has been horror.”
― Mark Z. Danielewski's

“The girl wondered: These policemen... didn't they have families, too? Didn't they have children? Children they went home to? How could they treat children this way? Were they told to do so, or did they act this way naturally? Were they in fact machines, not human beings? She looked closely at them. They seemed of flesh and bone. They were men. She couldn't understand.”
― Tatiana de Rosnay, Sarah's Key

“And I’m a sheriff,” Shuller jumped in. Willum’s demeaner faltered for a moment. It was so minor that it could have been missed by most, but Shuller caught it. The ever-so-slight blanching at the mention of law. Shuller was able to perceive the slight discomfort which concerned him. It was not a good sign to Shuller when someone bristled at the idea he was a sheriff. It never boded well for the type of person he was dealing with if the fact he was a man of law was what made them act oddly.”
― Kathleen Lopez, Thirteen for Dinner

“Well, to tell you the truth, I've thought of it often and often before, but he's such devilish good company is Huntingdon, after all - you can't imagine what a jovial good fellow he is when he's not fairly drunk, only just primed or half-seas-over - we all have a bit of a liking for him at the bottom of our hearts, though we can't respect him.'

'But should you wish yourself to be like him?'

'No, I'd rather be like myself, bad as I am.”
― Anne Brontë, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall