Laura Moorcroft’s Profile

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Stoner by John Williams
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For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
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Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel
Prozac Nation
by Elizabeth Wurtzel
read in September, 2013
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Laura Moorcroft is on page 150 of 368 of Prozac Nation
Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel
Prozac Nation
by Elizabeth Wurtzel
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The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald
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Laura Moorcroft wants to read
It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini
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Laura Moorcroft started reading
Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel
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Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
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Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
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The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova
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More of Laura's books…
J.D. Stroube
“A complete stranger has the capacity to alter the life of another irrevocably. This domino effect has the capacity to change the course of an entire world. That is what life is; a chain reaction of individuals colliding with others and influencing their lives without realizing it. A decision that seems miniscule to you, may be monumental to the fate of the world.”
J.D. Stroube, Caged by Damnation

Vera Nazarian
“On the late afternoon streets, everyone hurries along, going about their own business.

Who is the person walking in front of you on the rain-drenched sidewalk?

He is covered with an umbrella, and all you can see is a dark coat and the shoes striking the puddles.

And yet this person is the hero of his own life story.

He is the love of someone’s life.

And what he can do may change the world.

Imagine being him for a moment.

And then continue on your own way.”
Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

Charles Dickens
“Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. Estella, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God bless you, God forgive you!”
Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
tags: love

Henry Rollins
“Is there anything here I can call my own? A feeling? A moment? Anything? Will there ever be a time when I am truly loved? When I'll know it and not wonder if it's real? Is there something I can protect and love and care about? Is there a truth I can keep that has no fear attached? Will there ever be a time when I can be somewhere and it will feel like home? Will there ever be a time when I will look around me and know I am finally in the place I am supposed to be? Is there anything here, anything I can see, while I breathe and breathe, trying to stay alive long enough to just be able to be here and know that I am here? Not just any here but the here I am supposed to be in. Is there anything that I can call mine that will not eventually be take from me? Is there anything, anyone, ever?”
Henry Rollins, Roomanitarian
tags: life

Charles Bukowski
“Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you'll never meet them. All right, so we do the best we can. Granted. But we must still realize that love is just the result of a chance encounter. Most people make too much of it. On these grounds a good fuck is not to be entirely scorned. But that's the result of a chance meeting too. You're damned right. Drink up. We'll have another.”
Charles Bukowski

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