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Kindle Notes & Highlights
It was a small, gentle cruelty of life that most people with a true sense of purpose lack the talent to achieve it. The people with talent are far more likely directionless, an odd but unavoidable irony.
maybe he’d always been rich, white, and male enough for the idea of danger to become laughably pretend.
There were people capable of being seen and then there was Parisa, who would only ever be looked at.
what was life if not a series of irresponsible choices in pursuit of shrieking joy?)
How many times can a woman look you dead in the eye and dare you to change her mind before you finally realize you’re kind of in love with her?
A woman’s power looked different than a man’s.
to love something is to care for it, to glimpse everything you will someday lose and still go on as if that loss will not destroy you.
