#ravishlyreads

That’s the great thing about books where the world ends: you can close them and look up to see a world that miraculously managed not to end while you were busy reading. You can hop back into the fray of that still-turning, still-suffering world and maybe make your own Magic Vessel Of Flickering Empathy Waiting For Lost And Lonely Souls To Find while you’re at it. Ironic as it may be, that magic is part of the glue that holds humans together.

“Every woman who appears wrestles with the faces that would have her disappear. She struggles with the forces that would tell her story for her, or write her out of the story… The ability to tell your own story, in words or images, is already a victory, already a revolt.”