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Jeeves and the Ti...
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Thus Spoke Zarath...
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  (page 44 of 327)
Aug 28, 2011 06:37AM

Notes from Underg...
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  (page 112 of 287)
Aug 02, 2011 04:41PM


Margaret's Recent Updates

Margaret rated a book 5 of 5 stars
How Right You Are, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse
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Margaret is currently reading
Jeeves and the Tie That Binds by P.G. Wodehouse
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Margaret liked a quote
“For I have known them all already, known them all—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.”
T.S. Eliot
Margaret wants to read
Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
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The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
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Margaret rated a book 2 of 5 stars
After Dark by Haruki Murakami
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Margaret added
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
The Handmaid's Tale
by Margaret Atwood (Goodreads Author)
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Wasteland by Francesca Lia Block
by Francesca Lia Block (Goodreads Author)
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Margaret liked a quote
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
“Sometimes she would cry. I was so lonely, she'd say. You have no idea how lonely I was. And I had friends, I was a lucky one, but I was lonely anyway.
I admired my mother in some ways, although things between us were never easy. She expected too much from me, I felt. She expected me to vindicate her life for her, and the choices she'd made. I didn't want to live my life on her terms. I didn't want to be the model offspring, the incarnation of her ideas. We used to fight about that. I am not your justification for existence, I said her to once.
I want her back. I want everything back, the way it was. But there is no point to it, this wanting.”
Margaret Atwood
Margaret is on page 44 of 327 of Thus Spoke Zarathustra
Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche
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More of Margaret's books…
Mark Z. Danielewski
“Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And for better or worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name.
And then the nightmares will begin.”
Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

Fernando Pessoa
“We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It's our own concept—our own selves—that we love.”
Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

James Frey
“Long black hair and deep clean blue eyes and skin pale white and lips blood red she's small and thin and worn and damaged. She is standing there.
What are you doing here?
I was taking a walk and I saw you and I followed you.
What do you want.
I want you to stop.
I breathe hard, stare hard, tense and coiled. There is still more tree for me to destroy I want that fucking tree. She smiles and she steps towards me, toward toward toward me, and she opens he r arms and I'm breathing hard staring hard tense and coiled she puts her arms around me with one hand not he back of my head and she pulls me into her arms and she holds me and she speaks.
It's okay.
I breathe hard, close my eyes, let myself be held.
It's okay.
Her voice calms me and her arms warm me and her smell lightens me and I can feel her heart beat and my heart slows and I stop shaking an the Fury melts into her safety an she holds me and she says.
Something else comes and it makes me feel weak and scared and fragile and I don't want to be hurt and this feeling is the feeling I have when I know I can be hurt and hurt deeper and more terribly than anything physical and I always fight it and control it and stop it but her voice calms me and her arms warm me and her smell lightens me and I can feel her heart beat and if she let me go right now I would fall and the need and confusion and fear and regret and horror and shame and weakness and fragility are exposed to the soft strength of her open arms and her simple word okay and I start to cry. I start to cry. I want to cry.
It comes in waves. THe waves roll deep and from deep the deep within me and I hold her and she holds me tighter and i let her and I let it and I let this and I have not felt this way this vulnerability or allowed myself to feel this way this vulnerability since I was ten years old and I don't know why I haven't and I don't know why I am now and I only know that I am and that it is scary terrifying frightening worse and better than anything I've ever felt crying in her arms just crying in her ams just crying.
She guides me to the ground, but she doesn't let me go. THe Gates are open and thirteen years of addiction, violence, hell and their accompaniments are manifesting themselves in dense tears and heavy sobs and a shortness of breath and a profound sense of loss. THe loss inhabits, fills and overwhelms me. It is the loss of a childhood of being a Teeenager of normalcy of happiness of love of trust anon reason of God of Family of friends of future of potential of dignity of humanity of sanity f myself of everything everything everything. I lost everything and I am lost reduced to a mass of mourning, sadness, grief, anguish and heartache. I am lost. I have lost. Everything. Everything.
It's wet and Lilly cradles me like a broken Child. My face and her shoulder and her shirt and her hair are wet with my tears. I slow down and I start to breathe slowly and deeply and her hair smells clean and I open my eyes because I want to see it an it is all that I can see. It is jet black almost blue and radiant with moisture. I want to touch it and I reach with one of my hands and I run my hand from the crown along her neck and her back to the base of her rib and it is a thin perfect sheer and I let it slowly drop from the tips of my fingers and when it is gone I miss it. I do it again and again and she lets me do it and she doesn't speak she just cradles me because I am broken. I am broken. Broken.
THere is noise and voices and Lilly pulls me in tighter and tighter and I know I pull her in tighter and tighter and I can feel her heart beating and I know she can feel my heart beating and they are speaking our hearts are speaking a language wordless old unknowable and true and we're pulling and holding and the noise is closer and the voices louder and Lilly whispers.
You're okay.
You're okay.
You're okay.”
James Frey

Ned Vizzini
“Its so hard to talk when you want to kill yourself. That's above and beyond everything else, and it's not a mental complaint-it's a physical thing, like it's physically hard to open your mouth and make the words come out. They don't come out smooth and in conjunction with your brain the way normal people's words do; they come out in chunks as if from a crushed-ice dispenser; you stumble on them as they gather behind your lower lip. So you just keep quiet.”
Ned Vizzini, It's Kind of a Funny Story

Carson McCullers
“Day and night she had drudged and struggled and thrown her soul into her work, and there was not much of her left over for anything else. Being human, she suffered from this lack and did what she could to make up for it. If she passed the evening bent over a table in the library and later declared that she had spent that time playing cards, it was as though she had managed to do both those things. Through the lies, she lived vicariously. The lies doubled the little of her existence that was left over from work and augmented the little rag end of her personal life.”
Carson McCullers, The Ballad of the Sad Café and Other Stories

Joey's Memory (Literature & Fiction)
1 chapters   —   updated Dec 06, 2009 03:37PM
Description: Joey has a past, one that she can't completely remember. Dealing with what she can remembers seems to be too much to handle. Enter Mrs. Simner. Joey and her psychologist, Mrs. Simner are off to discover the real facts of *that night*.
Broken Hearts (Romance)
1 chapters   —   updated Dec 06, 2009 03:25PM
Description: I'm not sure what I think of this beginning. It would be great if I could see some comments. This story is of Abella, who tells about her past romance at boarding school, beginning with two exes.
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