In school, they would tell you that life wouldn’t come to you; you had to go out and make it your own. But when it came to love, the message for girls seemed to be this: Don’t. Don’t go after what you want. Wait. Wait to be chosen, as if only in the eye of another could one truly find value. The message was confusing and infuriating. It was a shell game with no actual pea under the rapidly moving cups.
Libba Bray, Beauty Queens, 125.
Exceptional book. I highly recommend the audiobook.
Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
— John Keats (via fleurstains)
Amy and I are in my room with the ceiling light on when Mom walks in.
- Mom (unscrewing one of the light bulbs with her good hand): No wonder it's so dark in here! I'll tell Dad to pick up some more lights.
- Amy: You probably shouldn't mess around with those while it's turned on.
- Mom: Why not?
- Me: It's electric!
- Both (Pause. The sisters exchange a look): BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE!