More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
how heavily the air weighs, hinting at deluge and decay,
How was it possible to love something so much when you were alone with it only to hate it as soon as other people saw it?
women’s art was ignored and undervalued—but not when it came to sex.
her innate capacity for cruelty had sensed an ingress, a cleft, and had swollen to fill it.
“I’m a painter, not an idiot.
Louisa wondered how you could desire to be free of desire.
she’d felt deliriously happy.
The sensation was so unfamiliar that it almost felt like fear. It felt like losing control.
Happiness slunk over her sometimes, so stealthily that she was unaware of it until it hit her: I am here. I am happy.
“They’re so angry. Are they about how the whole world is going to shit?” Robert shrugged. “I guess.”
Art is the only salvation from the horror of existence.
“You want to live in a city where you’ll be starved for the sky,” said Karina. “And then periodically leave and gorge yourself on air and water.”
It was a bit like having a lucid dream—the thrilling awareness of the possibilities at hand coupled with the vertiginous knowledge that at any moment it all might fall apart.
Every day was an assault on the senses.

