When we prioritise our own reaction to art, we assume that those reactions are about the art. But if you are misreading a piece of writing, without knowing it, your feelings will be more to do with you than with the writing, and thus not a response to the writing at all. When we misunderstand what we read, our feelings make us pay more attention to... See more
The more we have read, the better we know where a new book fits. The more ignorant we are, the more likely it is that we will be dazzled by mediocrity.
IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY.
One of my deepest beliefs about life is that it will never play out exactly as we imagine. If that’s true, then every daydream is a little death—a foreclosure of possibility rather than its conjuring. But Emma offered another way of seeing this: the daydream was never the destination; it... See more
Restraint. Indulgence. Punishment. This triptych of impulses has structured my relationship to desire for so long: with food, booze, men. The shame of fantasy has always felt related to my bottomless appetite for sweet things, for the dessert before the dessert, for dessert for breakfast, for desserts that contain other desserts: bowls of melted... See more
When you’re obsessed with your life, you stop forcing connections.
You stop begging for loyalty.
You stop clinging to people who only show up halfway.
You begin to see relationships for what they really are: reflections of who you are at this phase of your life. Some reflect your old wounds. Some reflect your growth. Some reflect your potential. And... See more
To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commission and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we... See more