I can't find peace.

Har Har Har

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.

She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

Summarized version:
Lolita. Oh, she was something. Really sexy. Really hot. I loved saying her name, over and over. Lolita, Lolita, Lolita. I liked the way she looked in her school uniform. She was pretty damn cute. Oh yes. The Making of a Story by Alice LaPlante

oh god. I can't stop crying.

Mama, I miss you so much.

Lady T & Tiger JK

I wish I could be this.



I wish I could have this.

You are quite linda

I've come far. I've matured.

However, I'm still maturing, still learning, and still in need of improvement.

---------------------------------------------------
My professor asked why there'll always be some kind of war in every time period.

I wanted to say that it's biological. We all have the instinct to destroy.

What if he doesn't exist

When I got out of high school I was still sixteen and I got a job at Wal-Mart. I didn't know what else to do. We needed the money. What little it was. Anyway, the night before I went down there I had this dream. Or it was like a dream. I think I was still about half awake. But it come to me in this dream or whatever it was that if I went down there that he would find me. At the Wal-Mart. I didn't know who he was or what his name was or what he looked like. I just knew that I'd knew that I'd know him when I seen him. I kept a calendar and marked the days. Like when you're in jail. I mean I aint never been in jail, but like you would probably. And on the ninety-nine day he walked in and he asked me where sportin goods was at and it was him. And I told him where it was at and he looked at me and went on. And directly he come back and he read my nametag and he said my name and he looked at me and he said: What time do you get off? And that was all she wrote. There was not no question in my mind. Not then, not now, not ever.

No Country For Old Men by Cormac McCarthy

Do you ever have times where you're just standing from afar and you're watching everyone mingle and you think that you can fit in if you wanted to, but as you stare at the crowd you realize it's so meaningless and so pointless to bother.

[Romanticized view] when I go out to places filled with people--bar--I always hope, ridiculously, that I'll catch someone's eye and some guy will catch my eye and BAM it'll happen, that I'll find someone worth knowing in that mass of people because I know. But I really don't know anything.

That kind of thing doesn't happen (and perhaps if I deny it enough that it will happen).

Ready to Get Out and Live It Out (Metric?)

Professor Pindell said, "Pistols were always made to kill people. Rifles are used for animals, but pistols were specifically made to kill people."

Life is Beautiful If you're willing to Live it

I'd pull the trigger.

If you had to kill someone--aim a gun to their head--knowing that if you let them go they would kill you and your family, and numerous others. Would you?

I would. I'd pull the trigger.

It takes little to govern good people. Very little. And bad people cant be governed at all. Of if they could I never heard of it.

No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy