Mandy Hagen

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Annabel
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On Becoming a Per...
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So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo
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Tolkien and the Great War by John Garth
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Becoming by Michelle Obama
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Annabel by Kathleen Winter
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Doors of Stone by Patrick Rothfuss
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Mandy Hagen wants to read 12 books in the 2019 Reading Challenge
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More of Mandy's books…
Sylvia Plath
“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.”
sylvia plath

Victor Hugo
“The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.”
Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

Theodore Roosevelt
“People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care”
Theodore Roosevelt

Carl R. Rogers
“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.”
Carl R. Rogers, On Becoming a Person: A Therapist's View of Psychotherapy

Sylvia Plath
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

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