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A grin split his face. “Alice Law, you naughty girl. You’re trying to go to Hell.”
“Hell’s lonely,” said Peter. “You’ll want company.” “Hell is other people, I’ve heard.”
This was the key to flourishing in graduate school. You could do anything if you were delusional.
Those who had nothing substantial to brag about bragged the loudest. Stay silent and ignore the chattering crowd—this was proof you had something real to be proud of.
And if falling in love was discovery, was letting yourself be discovered the equivalent to being loved?
