

“When I started writing
I was a sick teenaged
fuck inside who partly
thought I was the new
Marquis de Sade, a body
doomed to communicate
with Satan who was us-
ing my sickness as his
home away from home,
and there’s your proof.”
―
I was a sick teenaged
fuck inside who partly
thought I was the new
Marquis de Sade, a body
doomed to communicate
with Satan who was us-
ing my sickness as his
home away from home,
and there’s your proof.”
―

“I'm only saying I want you to be happy. I hate your being unhappy. I don't mind anything you do that makes you happy."
You just want an excuse. If I sleep with anybody else, you feel you can do the same - any time."
That's neither here nor there. I want you to be happy, that's all."
You'd make my bed for me?"
Perhaps.”
― The End of the Affair
You just want an excuse. If I sleep with anybody else, you feel you can do the same - any time."
That's neither here nor there. I want you to be happy, that's all."
You'd make my bed for me?"
Perhaps.”
― The End of the Affair

“Thus did a handful of rapacious citizens come to control all that was worth controlling in America. Thus was the savage and stupid and entirely inappropriate and unnecessary and humorless American class system created. Honest, industrious, peaceful citizens were classed as bloodsuckers, if they asked to be paid a living wage. And they saw that praise was reserved henceforth for those who devised means of getting paid enormously for committing crimes against which no laws had been passed. Thus the American dream turned belly up, turned green, bobbed to the scummy surface of cupidity unlimited, filled with gas, went bang in the noonday sun.”
― God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater
― God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater
Bryce’s 2024 Year in Books
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