Samantha > Recent Status Updates

All power depends on force. All force depends on money.

Why do so many novels include completely pointless modern timelines?

Timeless wisdom: I know enough to know that you can’t do anything with a drug addict unless he wants to be cured.

🥱

A third through this book and nothing has happened. 🥱

You can’t go in and be slaughtering everyone like a passel of King Henrys.

You could arrest sunlight for attempted murder out on the plains.

The mind is a wild liar and I don’t trust much in it that I find there.

The comparison of people literally fighting for their lives in concentration camps to modern pro-abortion movement definitely doesn’t work for me.

I doubt people who lived through WWII, when over 70 MILLION people died, would say that today “barbarity and indifference had reached new heights.”

Beyond the collective trauma lies buried guilt. And hatred of anything that might awaken it.

Second mention of Trump in a novel about WWII seems entirely unnecessary.

A skyscraper is simply a cathedral for people who, instead of believing in God, believe in money.

Everything can be forgiven in this world, save telling the truth.

Ooooohhhh, book 2 just became so much more clear to me.

Love is the only creature that doesn’t learn from its mistakes.

Faith is found when one isn’t looking for it and the day will come when your heart, and not your mind, will long for the purification of the soul.

When we feel like victims, all our actions and beliefs are legitimized, however questionable they may be.

Tell me what you boast of and I'll tell you what you lack.

Poetry is written with tears, fiction with blood, and history with invisible ink...

Normally, the more talent one has, the more one doubts it, and vice versa.

I think you judge yourself too severely, a quality that always distinguishes people of true worth.

It seems that in the advanced stages of stupidity, a lack of ideas is compensated for by an excess of ideologies.

Envy is the religion of the mediocre. It comforts them, it soothes their worries, and finally it rots their souls, allowing them to justify their meanness and their greed until they believe these to be virtues.

Vidal is a sentimentalist who still believes in those profoundly un-Spanish myths such as meritocracy or giving opportunities to those who deserve them rather than to the current favorite.

continued: and what he covets the most: his name printed on a miserable piece of paper that surely will outlive him. A writer is condemned to remember that moment, because from then on he is doomed and his soul has a price.

The first paragraph of this book is to die for: A writer never forgets the first time he accepted a few coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story. He will never forget the sweet poison of vanity in his blood and the belief that, if he succeeds in not letting anyone discover his lack of talent the dream of literature will provide him with a roof over his head, a hot meal at the end of the day, and.....

“Like a jar that had decided to forgive you.” —- WTF?

He misread nothing in her face. He misread everything. …Again, I have no idea what this means.

“The word sat in the air like a coin for a saint.” —- I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.