More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
‘When we are struck at without a reason, we should strike back again very hard; I am sure we should – so hard as to teach the person who struck us never to do it again.’ —JANE EYRE
When someone who doesn’t want to die, realises they’re going to die, they fight. Holy fuck, do they fight.
Red eyes, blue lips, a pale yellowing skin. Oh, and some gorgeous shades of purple later as the blood pools in the lowest parts of the body. The colour palette of death is really rather pretty.
Do teenagers not go through an awkward phase any more?
Why is just going out for coffee so much effort?
Having a stalker is a classic sign you’ve reached peak influencer status, but why can’t I have a nice one who sends things? Nice things. Why do I have to have one of the weirdos who fantasise about using my blood as lube while masturbating?
‘It doesn’t matter how much ink you get, you’ll always be a mainstream cunt.’
referred to himself as an ‘entrepreneur’. Which everyone knows is shorthand for twat.
My feet hurt in my heels, and I wonder if they were designed by men specifically to make women easier to catch.
Maisie looks gutted. ‘I’m such a dick.’ ‘No,’ I say. ‘You’re not. You’re kind and open and you trusted someone. Those are not dick moves. His actions are not a reflection on you. He’s the dick here, babes.’
dick behaviour,’ Tor says, through a mouthful of salmon sashimi. ‘Urgh. I could kill men sometimes.’ Me too.
‘Sorry. I’m baffled by how men think it’s easier to just ignore someone than have a conversation with them. It fascinates me.’ It’s hideous.
I spot a large-ish case squashed into a space next to a standalone wardrobe and grab it, noting a hopeful condom on his bedside table as I leave. Oh, to have the confidence of a very average white male.
I drive around for bit, clutching the steering wheel for dear life, desperately trying to think of something to do with the body. What do people do with bodies? Burn them? Throw them into the Thames? Feed them to pigs? The solution comes to me so suddenly that I laugh. I do an actual LOL. It’s so obvious.
The world is better without these men, these cheaters, liars and predators. I’m just helping out really, cleansing a society that’s almost too grubby to bear.
There is no pain quite like that of a broken heart. No matter what anyone says. Time doesn’t heal and nothing can prepare you for it. Even worse, nothing can fix it for you either.
I absolutely refuse to be around anyone who thinks they’re better than me because a) who has the time to waste hanging out with anyone you just will never get along with and b) no one is better than me.
Queen
While the highs were up there in the cosmos, the lows brought me hurtling back down to earth with all the power and speed of a meteor. And the fallout was extinction level.
I didn’t give him the chance to do either. I left him there and walked home, where I curled up in a ball for a week.
Anyway, in a sort of Dexter-esque way I’ve decided that there are people who really deserve to die. And those who don’t.
Women are not predators. Not in the same way as men.
Killing must serve a purpose or it’s just plain murder. Okay, I stole this one directly from Dexter, but it’s pertinent.
I want to live in a world where I don’t have to keep my keys between my fingers in case I’m attacked walking home.
Anyway, the purpose of this little anecdote is, yes, I know it’s not all men. But unfortunately, they don’t come with coloured wristbands so we can tell the difference between the good guys and the bad ones. So there needs to be a system. It’s my calling. I hear you. And I’m coming.
Honestly, I love these women with what I imagine sisterly love feels like, but there are occasions when I picture cutting their fingers off one by one.
It’s hard when your privilege hits you right in the face.’
He doesn’t look like a monster though. But they don’t, do they? Otherwise, they’d never get the opportunity to be monsters.
The devil wears many guises.
I blame Hollywood for this. There’s still some notion that continually trying to win over a woman who has quite clearly expressed having no interest in you is romantic.
I hate nightclubs.
‘I don’t give a fuck,’ I say. ‘What? Can’t hear you?’ ‘I said “what rotten luck!”’
If you think extremely average white men have a confidence they don’t deserve, imagine one with money who has been gushed over since he was about twelve.
Money can’t buy class.’
‘That reminds me actually. That saying you couldn’t remember earlier about secrets. It’s “three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead”. I looked it up on my phone.’
Men are funny creatures, you know, the proper ones. The ones who don’t feel the need to shout and bully and push and shove their way through life.
