#memoir

In terms of size, mammals are an anomaly, as the vast majority of the world's existing species are snail-sized or smaller. It's almost as if, regardless of your kingdom, the smaller your size & the earlier your place on the tree of life, the more critical is your niche on Earth: snails & worms create soil, & blue-green algae create oxygen; mammals seem comparatively dispensable, the result of the random path of evolution over a luxurious amount of time. ↗

— Elisabeth Tova Bailey

#natural-history #non-fiction #life

No furniture is so charming as books. ↗

— Sydney Smith

#furniture #memoir

Sometimes," he sighed, "I think the things I remember are more real than the things I see. ↗

— Arthur Golden

#memoir

Never, never underestimate the power of desire. If you want to live badly enough, you can live. The great question, at least for me, was: How do I decide I want to live? ↗

— Marya Hornbacher

#memoir

You should be nicer to him,' a schoolmate had once said to me of some awfully ill-favored boy. 'He has no friends.' This, I realized with a pang of pity that I can still remember, was only true as long as everybody agreed to it. ↗

— Christopher Hitchens

#friends #pity #school #schoolmates #memoir

Thank God for tea! What would the world do without tea! How did it exist? I am glad I was not born before tea. ↗

— Sydney Smith

#memoir

What were you like," I asked her. "we're you happy? Or were you smiling because they told you to? ↗

— Gabrielle Zevin

#memoir

When it was suggested that I write a memoir I said, 'I'm not old enough. I'm not distinguished enough.' But I went home and sat down to write, and the material for the book just came flooding into my hands. ↗

— Julia Cameron

#came #distinguished #down #enough #flooding

Memoirs are a well-known form of fiction. ↗

— Frank Harris

#form #memoirs #well-known

I clutched the basin of the sink as I checked my reflection. I was badly bruised on my neck and décolleté. I then realized my arms, abdomen and legs ached as if I worked out with heavy weights too hard the day before. My eyes flashed back to my neck. I traced the hand marks that left their anger in a violent green and purple pattern. I needed to wash myself. The smell of blood lingered upon my skin, turning my stomach. I heard Alexei tapping on the door but ignored him and stepped into the shower. The water felt caustic at first, causing the pain my attacker rendered upon my body to resurface, but soon we made peace, and I rested under the heat. I heard him come in, and he slowly moved the curtain back, allowing a rush of cool air to rape me once more. “Please, Dija. Say something.” I continued my determined vow of silence. The hurt was suppressed within my chest. ↗

— Rebekah Armusik

#gothic-memoirs #memoirs-of-a-gothic-soul #rebekah #vampire-novel #vampire-series