#ra

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

We had a teacher called Fanny Menlove, and I remember once when she was out of the room Nancy went up to the blackboard and wrote it backward - Menlove Fanny - and we all fell around laughing. She got into big trouble, but she didn't seem to mind. She had no fear. ↗

— Peter FitzSimons

#humor #biography

…some bits of Dickens-books with which latter I am long familiar and long enamored for the restful falseness of their sentiment and the pungent appetizing charm of their villains. ↗

— Mary MacLane

#biography

I liked reading biographies of writers, even if (as was the case with Monsieur Rabelais)I'd never read any of their actual writing. I flipped to the back and found the highlighted quote ("NEVER USE A HIGHLIGHTER IN MY BOOKS, ↗

— John Green

#books #fiction #highlighter #reading-readers-writers #writing

People want biography. People want memoir. They want you to tell them that the story you're telling them is true. The thing I'm telling you is true, but it did not always happen to me. ↗

— Dorothy Allison

#truth #biography