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“If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.”

Oof. I like THAT.

Through gritted teeth, Ulmer said, “You’re too fucking much.”
Larkin closed the distance between them. “Then go find less.”

BOOM! Direct hit!

“Thank you for following me.”
“To the ends of the Earth.”
“Earth is spherical.”
“Yeah, it is.”

Doyle Doyle Doyle

I love you.

Indeed. What kind?
Excerpt:
He had learned that fear when he was little and once passed the white people’s church. The kids came out of the church when they saw him. They threw rocks and bricks and called him the vilest names that could spring from a southern tongue. And he asked his grandparents, “What kind of god they got up inside that church?”

“A look of hatred; unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul.”
OG bitchface

My tragedy averse self is rereading this NOT because of a movie but because I can’t resist a book challenge. Jane Eyre, you’re next.

Oh yes. YES.

This one is so damn funny. I didn’t expect that! Love it.