i’m on my way to london?!!?!
have you ever gotten kicked out of a class?
yes it was for going on a feminist rant in 6th grade english class i believe — just being kind of confrontational & sassy to a teacher & not knowing when to shut my mouth
have you ever gotten in a physical fight?
nope! all of my venom is verbal, plus i’m 5’2 so it probably wouldn’t be a good idea in general
The woman picked up her black bag and, still bent over, headed for the door.
'Will I see you again?' Samsa asked one last time.
'If you think of someone enough, you’re sure to meet them again,' she said in parting. This time there was real warmth in her voice.
'Look out for birds,' he called after her. She turned and nodded. Then she walked out to the street.
❝ I like being myself, but only when I’m scattered and various and gregarious. ❞
❝ I have also excelled at lacrosse, wakeboarding, and riding the subway while thinking, Look at me, I’m riding the subway! ❞
❝ Woolf often conceives of life this way: as a gift that you’ve been given, which you must hold onto and treasure but never open. Opening it would dispel the atmosphere, ruin the radiance—and the radiance of life is what makes it worth living. It’s hard to say just what holding onto life without looking at it might mean; that’s one of the puzzles of her books. But it has something to do with preserving life’s mystery; with leaving certain things undescribed, unspecified, and unknown; with savoring certain emotions, such as curiosity, surprise, desire, and anticipation. It depends on an intensified sense of life’s preciousness and fragility, and on a Heisenberg-like notion that, when it comes to our most abstract and spiritual intuitions, looking too closely changes what we feel. It has to do, in other words, with a kind of inner privacy, by means of which you shield yourself not just from others’ prying eyes, but from your own. Call it an artist’s sense of privacy. ❞