Status Updates From The Banned Bookshop of Magg...

“…I’d been so determined not to repeat my last mistakes, so sure, that if I didn’t get a flutter in my chest at the prospect of working there it must mean it wasn’t the job for me. But that couldn’t be a feasible approach either, holding out hope for a flutter I might never get. Every job might feel hollow which means the problem was me.” p. 269

Dudes mansplaining feminism to actual living, breathing women is so f*cking real LMAO.

“Is this orange?” Malcom smiled. “Orange essence.” “I love orange!” I brought it to my nose again. “I know.” I looked up. “What do you mean?” “I wanted to make something you like and sometimes you smell like oranges,” he said with a shrug. A grin teased at my lips. “You know what I smell like? And you made me a soap?” p. 201