You know the key to impulsivity is believing you are invincible. No one goes around throwing caution to the wind unless the wind is blowing their way.
– Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
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In Rome there was a banker called Agostino Chigi. In Siena, where he came from, they maintained he was the richest man in the world. When Agostino had the Pope around for dinner he fed him on gold plates. Then he looked at the aftermath – the sprawled, sated cardinals, the mess they left behind, the half-picked bones and fish skeletons, the oyster shells and the orange rinds – and he said, stuff it, let's save the washing-up.
The guests tossed their plates out of the open windows and straight into the Tiber. The soiled table linen flew after them, white napkins unfurling like greedy gulls diving for scraps. Peals of Roman laughter unfurled into the Roman night.
Chigi had netted the banks, and he had divers standing by for whatever escaped. Some sharp-eyed servant of his upper household stood by the bank when dawn came, and checked off the list, pricking with a pin each item retrieved as it came up from the deep.
— Hilary Mantel, 'Wolf Hall'
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For old times sake is actually such a heartbreaking and beautiful sentiment. Like, let’s do it for the love that used to be here. It is reason enough.
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fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i mother it, the absence of her ii. i was hard to bear from the very start.’
[text id: my sadness is a fire that i built to keep my hands warm on lonely nights. // art by sivan roshianu // i keep my misery bared between my teeth. i refuse to let her leave. / i am nothing without this obsession of mine.]
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"I'm not doing awfully well but I'm trying very, very, very hard."
– Anne Sexton, from a letter to Florence Ehrhardt, c. February 1974
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He loves the isolation, the solitude, the "invisibility" of quiet; the understanding that no one will speak to him, and that he need not speak to anyone.
– Joyce Carol Oates, The Quiet Car
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