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Sarah. 17. Wannabe Mermaid. New Yorker. Bookworm. Fire Islander. Idolizer of Audrey Hepburn and Jane Austen and Cindy Sherman and Tim Burton's Imagination. The Ocean. Professional Daydreamer. Nightdreamer. Doodler. Christmas Cups at Starbucks. Abundances of Cameras. Small Town Bookstores. Proud Little Monster.
"We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all."
-The Breakfast Club
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"They looked at Oscar and he looked at them and then he started to speak. The words coming out like they belonged to someone else, his Spanish good for once. He told them that what they were doing was wrong, that they were going to take a great love out of the world. Love was a rare thing, easily confused with a million other things, and if anybody knew this to be true it was him. He told them about Ybón and the way he loved her and how much they had risked and that they’d started to dream the same dreams and say the same words. He told them that it was only because of her love that he’d been able to do the thing that he had done, the thing they could no longer stop, told them if they killed him they would probably feel nothing and their children would probably feel nothing either, not until they were old and weak or about to be struck by a car and then they would sense him waiting for them on the other side and over there he wouldn’t be no fatboy or dork or kid no girl had ever loved; over there he’d be a hero, an avenger. Because anything you can dream (he put his hand up) you can be"
— The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz
