“Learning became her. She loved the smell of the books from the shelves, the type on the pages, the sense that the world was an infinite but knowable place. Every fact she learned seemed to open another question, and for every question there was another book.”—Robert Goolrick, A Reliable Wife (via bookoasis)
And so she always turns to her books, devouring the thoughts of others as if they can help her escape from the ones in her head. And she’s running, always running, away from what she knows, flipping through the pages faster as if that can get her farther away from it all. She loses herself in the stories, in others’ lives and in their memories, where the endings are all pre-written, the destinies all defined, hoping she can forget her own uncertainty. And though her future may not be laid out for her, there’s one path she knows she’ll always retread: she always comes crawling back; back home to her words.
“There comes a point when you just love someone. Not because they’re good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn’t mean you’ll be together forever. It doesn’t mean you won’t hurt each other. It just mean you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are. And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it.”—Laurell K. Hamilton (Incubus Dreams)