#ok

The feel of them (books) and the smell of them. A bookshop was like an Aladdin's cave for me. Entire worlds and lives can be found just behind that glossy cover. All you had to do was look." Claire (Watermelon) ↗

— Marian Keyes

#family

Identity confusion is defined by the SCID-D as a subjective deeling of uncertainty, puzzlement, or conflict about one's own identity. Patients who report histories of childhood trauma characteristically describe themese of ongoing inner struggle regarding their identity; of inner battles for survival; or other images of anger, conflict, and violence. ↗

— Marlene Steinberg

#dissociative #dissociative-identity-disorder #dsm #mental-health #multiple-personality-disorder

It is astounding to me, and achingly sad, that with eighty thousand people on the waiting list for donated hearts and livers and kidneys, with sixteen a day dying there on that list, that more then half of the people in the position H's family was in will say no, will choose to burn those organs or let them rot. We abide the surgeon's scalpel to save our own lives, out loved ones' lives, but not to save a stranger's life. H has no heart, but heartless is the last thing you'd call her. ↗

— Mary Roach

#life #medicine #family

My parents would frisk me before family events. Before weddings, funerals, bar mitzvahs, and what have you. Because if they didn't, then the book would be hidden inside some pocket or other and as soon as whatever it was got under way I'd be found in a corner. That was who I was...that was what I did. I was the kid with the book. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#reading #family

‎'All we need is a book,' roared Leslie; 'don't panic, hit 'em with a book. ↗

— Gerald Durrell

#family

Lies are neither bad nor good. Like a fire they can either keep you warm or burn you to death, depending on how they're used. ↗

— Max Brooks

#falsity #lies #max-brooks #truth #world-war-z

Maybe the only thing that hints at a sense of Time is rhythm; not the recurrent beats of the rhythm but the gap between two such beats, the gray gap between black beats: the Tender Interval. ↗

— Vladimir Nabokov

#nabokov #time #family

I'll tell you what's wrong!" he roared, "I'm trying to quit smoking!" Then he strode angrily to the truck, leaving her standing there. She blinked her eyes, and slowly a smile stretched her lips. She strolled to the truck and got in. "So, are you homicidal or merely as irritable as a wounded buffalo?" "About halfway in between," he said through clenched teeth. "Anything I can do to help?" His eyes were narrow and intense. "It isn't just the cigarettes. Take off your panties and lock your legs around me, and I'll show you. ↗

— Linda Howard

#cigarettes #quit-smoking #tension #family

All the old houses that I knew when I was a child were full of books, bought generation after generation by members of the family. Everyone was literate as a matter of course. Nobody told you to read this or not to read that. It was there to read, and we read. ↗

— Katherine Ann Porter

#literacy #reading #family

She read all sorts of things: travels, and sermons, and old magazines. Nothing was so dull that she couldn't get through with it. Anything really interesting absorbed her so that she never knew what was going on about her. The little girls to whose houses she went visiting had found this out, and always hid away their story-books when she was expected to tea. If they didn't do this, she was sure to pick one up and plunge in, and then it was no use to call her, or tug at her dress, for she neither saw nor heard anything more, till it was time to go home. ↗

— Susan Coolidge

#readers #reading #reading-books #family