Sharp Objects

by Gillian Flynn

The problem started long before that, of course. Problems always start long before you really, really see them.

It’s impossible to compete with the dead. I wished I could stop trying.

A town so suffocating and small, you tripped over people you hated every day. People who knew things about you. It’s the kind of place that leaves a mark.

Sometimes I think illness sits inside every woman, waiting for the right moment to bloom.