Lizzie > Recent Status Updates

Uh oh, doing the library-holds shuffle.

like Popsicles in summer A+++

And he was right -- the first breath of autumn was in the air, a prodigal feeling, a feeling of wanting, taking, and keeping before it is too late.

'You have to keep an eye on a picture or anything might happen.'

Getting such a wonderful Esme-and-"Chales" + broken veteran vibe off Kathy and Edgar here.

We had a reciprocal agreement -- I could go down his hole and he could climb my ladder said the actress to the bishop

I managed to function. Because I was so quiet anyway, I hid these dislocations of mind. Only, I had determined that I did not somehow belong with the careless well of the world anymore. I belonged with…Anaïs. On campus, I watched the well-fed, sane, secure, shining-haired and leather-belted ribbons of students pass me by. I would never be one of them! Agh, freshman year, right?!

I showed her the Berlitz book I’d found on a stellar day in the mission rummage, brand-new, not a mark in it. “Say something, say something!” Marn cried. “La nord, le sud, l’ouest, et l’est sont les quatre points cardinaux!”

Dirt that went ten feet down—rich, black clods you felt like holding in your fist and biting.

Unable to sleep, he lighted a candle stub and paged through the Meditations until he found the one he needed, the one that told him no longer to wander at hazard or wait to read the books he was reserving for old age, but to throw away idle hopes (Louisa!) and come to his own aid, if he cared for himself and while it was in his power.

I had expected to feel joy but instead felt a confusion of sorrow, or maybe fear, for it seemed that my life was a hungry story and I its source, and with this kiss I had now begun to deliver myself into the words. This lady can write the beginning of a book or what.

Since he is convinced that he makes everyone happy, he thinks that everything is forgiven him.

Footnote: In Italian folklore, the Befana is an old woman who delivers gifts to children, mostly in southern Italy, on the eve of the Epiphany (the night of January 5th), like St. Nicholas or Santa Claus. (This rings a distant grandmother bell; I think my sister was just talking about this too.)

She eluded me when I followed her and meanwhile stayed close on my heels in order to pass me by?

There was something unbearable in the things, in the people, in the buildings, in the streets that, only if you reinvented it all, as in a game, became acceptable. (Daydreaming.)

I got the book Heart, by Edmondo De Amicis, with not a word of explanation.

Every disobedient act contained breathtaking opportunities.

Women, who appeared to be silent, acquiescent, when they were angry flew into a rage that had no end.

Blrrrh I'm afraid I am taking a break and coming back to you later, book. This is not a good reading period, and you are obviously not a book to read scattershot. Because I have no clue what is happening. Okay. See you soon!

She did this all the time now. Imagined how he would see her while she stood at the stove cooking supper. While she read to the kids, putting them to bed. For no good reason, it made these routine parts of her life seem consequential.

'I think I hate rich people.'

A resentment of the Christmas season was fair game, she felt, for people who've lost their parents, have no expendable income, or both.

two wild blond poofs, with a center part so crooked it could get you a DUI

There was a crack so deep it went down forever. On the before side his love for his father, and belief in all that his father did, lay crumpled and discarded.