Beth

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Judy Blundell
“I breathed in and out, perfume and smoke, perfume and smoke, and we lay like that for a long time, until I heard the seagulls crying, sadder than a funeral, and I knew it was almost morning.”
Judy Blundell, What I Saw and How I Lied

Elizabeth Gilbert
“Show up for your own life, he said. Don't pass your days in a stupor, content to swallow whatever watery ideas modern society may bottle-feed you through the media, satisfied to slumber through life in an instant-gratification sugar coma. The most extraordinary gift you've been given is your own humanity, which is about conciousness, so honor that consciousness.
Revere your senses; don't degrade them with drugs, with depression, with wilful oblivion. Try to notice something new everyday, Eustace said. Pay attention to even the most modest of daily details. Even if you're not in the woods, be aware at all times. Notice what food tastes like; notice what the detergent aisle in the supermarket smells like and recognize what those hard chemical smells do to your senses; notice what bare feet fell like; pay attention every day to the vital insights that mindfulness can bring. And take care of all things, of every single thing there is - your body, your intellect, your spirit, your neighbours, and this planet. Don't pollute your soul with apathy or spoil your health with junk food any more than you would deliberately contaminate a clean river with industrial sludge.”
Elizabeth Gilbert, The Last American Man

Betty  Smith
“I think it's good that people like us can waste something once in a while and get the feeling of how it would be to have lots of money and not have to worry about scrounging.”
Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Betty  Smith
“She loved the library and was anxious to worship the lady in charge. But the librarian had other things on her mind. She hated children anyhow.”
Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Mario Vargas Llosa
“The sort of decision arrived at by saints and madmen is not revealed to others. It is forged little by little, in the folds of the spirit, tangential to reason, shielded from indiscreet eyes, not seeking the approval of others—who would never grant it—until it is at last put into practice. I imagine that in the process—the conceiving of a project and its ripening into action—the saint, the visionary, or the madman isolates himself more and more, walling himself up in solitude, safe from the intrusion of others.”
Mario Vargas Llosa, The Storyteller

year in books
Jill Zu...
365 books | 131 friends

Angie K...
2,125 books | 47 friends

Susan
10,946 books | 127 friends

Tiffanie
1,802 books | 42 friends

Crystal
1,343 books | 90 friends

Robert ...
1,201 books | 79 friends

Jess
1,555 books | 171 friends

Abby
1,490 books | 53 friends

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