I am Ariel and it is what it is.
“My gripe is not with lovers of the truth but with truth herself. What succor, what consolation is there in truth, compared to a story? What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney? When the lightning strikes shadows on the bedroom wall and the rain taps at the window with its long fingernails? No. When fear and cold make a statue of you in your bed, don't expect hard-boned and fleshless truth to come running to your aid. What you need are the plump comforts of a story. The soothing, rocking safety of a lie.”
― Diane Setterfield
- Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star
(Source: absentia, via anditslove)
Does she flick the bean, I mean? Is she ever without a lackey to do that for her? God, sometimes you just gotta sex yourself. I need a vibrator… but where to keep it? What kind to get…? At least it won’t come before I do.
Wouldn’t It Be Nice || The Beach Boys
(Source: bonfidelity, via omgpullover)
- Jack Gilbert, from “Islands and Figs”
(Source: the-final-sentence)