#p

I turned to books for comfort. (Former First Lady, Laura Bush) ↗

— Laura Bush

#political #politically-correct #telling #biography

All true histories contain instruction; though, in some, the treasure may be hard to find, and when found, so trivial in quantity, that the dry, shriveled kernel scarcely compensates for the trouble of cracking the nut. ↗

— Anne Brontë

#thought #truth #writing #biography

بلدٌ يقضي فيه المرء أوقاته متطلّعاً إلى السماء متأمّلا القمم الشاهقة ، هو بلدٌ لي ↗

— Amélie Nothomb

#mountains #novel #biography

But, said Lewis, myths are lies, even though lies breathed through silver. No, said Tolkien, they are not. ...just as speech is invention about objects and ideas, so myth is invention about truth. We have come from God (continued Tolkien), and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God. Indeed only by myth-making, only by becoming a 'sub-creator' and inventing stories, can Man aspire to the state of perfection that he knew before the Fall. Our myths may be misguided, but they steer however shakily towards the true harbour, while materialistic 'progress' leads only to a yawning abyss and the Iron Crown of the power of evil. You mean, asked Lewis, that the story of Christ is simply a true myth, a myth that works on us in the same way as the others, but a myth that really happened? In that case, he said, I begin to understand. ↗

— Humphrey Carpenter

#christ #myth #myths #splintered-light #sub-creator

And since we don’t just forget things because they don’t matter but also forget things because they matter too much because each of us remembers and forgets in a pattern whose labyrinthine windings are an identification mark no less distinctive than a fingerprintit’s no wonder that the shards of reality one person will cherish as a biography can seem to someone else who, say, happened to have eaten some ten thousand dinners at the very same kitchen table, to be a willful excursion into mythomania ↗

— Philip Roth

#memory-loss #biography

Every woman is wired differently. Some women's nerves branch more in the vagina; other women's nerves branch more in the clitoris. Some branch a great deal in the perineum, or at the mouth of the cervix. That accounts for some of the differences in female sexual response. ↗

— Naomi Wolf

#vagina #biography

He still has the same way of calling to me, as if I'm still new to him, as if he has yet to get over me. ↗

— George Plimpton

#jack-dunphy-on-truman-capote #biography

I'm sorry," I choke out. He's quiet. Tears drip off my chin. He lets out a slow, shaky breath. "Don't cry," he says. "That's not fair." I laugh and sob at the same time. "It's okay," he whispers. His fingers brush at the tears on my cheeks. "Don't cry." Then he puts his arms around me, wings and all. I curl my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest and breathe in the smell of the river on him. Somewhere in the woods a crow caws. A blackbird answers. And then we're kissing and everything goes away but Tucker. ↗

— Cynthia Hand

#paranormal

I couldn't meet his gaze. I stared at the table just behind him--the mess of cards on it, the lantern giving off its quiet glow. "When you gave me your shirt to wear that night, I could feel you. I could feel your essence." The world went still. We were standing only inches from each other, not touching. Outside, I could hear the faint murmur of the wind blowing through the trees. "What did it feel like?" he asked in a low voice. "Like...coming home," I admitted. ↗

— L.A. Weatherly

#paranormal

I fail remarkably. I write Eye when I mean Tooth. I write Fornicate when I mean Caress. I write Wine when I mean Blood. ↗

— Mary MacLane

#biography