Book Buffoon

“It might be said that folklore, as distinct from recorded history, is a type of collective social memory. Memory, subject to glitches and distortion, is naturally imperfect; but its capacity to capture experience and emotion offers its own sort of truth. A shared repository of familiar archetypes and narratives fosters a sense of community and belonging.“

“Do not try to prove you are generous by letting yourself be hurt”

“Nobody actually helped each other. That's why people had religions, hoping gods would provide help where people refused.”

“This revelry was a kind of fear, for hatred was the fear people let themselves enjoy.”

“No young woman of means has gone through her entire life without at least once surveying her opportunities and wishing for a dragon instead.”

"Sleep was a vehicle for passing the time, for avoiding the present. It was a trolley for the depressed, the impatient, and the dying.”

“But humans never stood up for the right thing. They stood around feeling uncomfortable, and later pretended that feeling uncomfortable meant they were virtuous.”

“You have to trust people sometimes. The good in this world might surprise you”

“What you see with your eyes is not necessarily real.”

“My enemy is, among other things, the me inside me.”

“You have to trust people sometimes. The good in this world might surprise you.”

“We’re separated by time and space. And yet, somehow, we’re all made of dust and stars.”

“There's a whole spectrum of reactions to coming out. Getting kicked out is one extreme–being accepted wholeheartedly is the other. But in the middle, there's this. The awkwardness, the refusals to acknowledge, the uncomfortable weirdness of turning away.”

“Strange, how a moment of existence can cut so deeply into our being that while ages pass unnoticed, a brief love can structure and define the very topology of our consciousness ever after.”

“Odd how certain people, often random individuals, can pulse with significance in your thoughts, your dreams”

“Anticipation is a gift. Perhaps there is none greater. Anticipation is born of hope. Indeed it is hope’s finest expression. In hope’s loss, however, is the greatest despair.”

“… this was the real difference between her and them. They had the confidence to be foolish, to be wrong.”