There comes a time in everyone’s life—and I do mean in everyone’s life—when you ask yourself what it is that you’ve been doing with your life. Sometimes you even realize that whatever you’ve been doing all your life, you’ve been doing it wrong. Dead wrong… Son, you want that realization to hit you when you’re 70? Or 50? Or when you’re still young, with your whole life still ahead of you?
Ali SheikhTags: life work ambition coming-of-age
It’s not easy to be God.
Péter ZilahyTags: sacrifice coming-of-age central-europe dark-humour
So the first step out of childhood is made all at once, without looking before or behind, without caution, and nothing held in reserve.
Ursula K. Le GuinTags: childhood coming-of-age adolescence earthsea
Who is old enough to ask, is old enough to know.
Sharon LeeTags: knowledge coming-of-age
Why can't a girl just want to know stuff and not do stuff?
Ellen MulhollandTags: growing-up girls coming-of-age teenagers teen-fiction
Sometimes, when you were thinking about something, trying to understand it, it opened up in your head without you expecting it to, like it was a soft spongy light unfolding, and you understood, it made sense forever…
Roddy DoyleTags: growing-up childhood coming-of-age paddy-clarke roddy-doyle
I was the ref. I was the ref they didn’t know about. Deaf and dumb. Invisible as a wall. I wanted no one to win
Roddy DoyleTags: coming-of-age divorce-separation-children
There's something to say about inspiration - when it comes into your life...the feeling is insatiable.
Ann Marie FrohoffTags: love music romance drama coming-of-age rock-and-roll young-adult-fiction rockstar star-crossed young-adult-series yalit teen-fiction young-adult-romance new-adult star-crossed-lovers edgy-teen-fiction
But I don't know, in the end, what deserts, chasms, achievements, virtues, and beauties have to do with love. We can love for so many different, and paradoxical, qualities in the object of our love--for strength or for weakness, for beauty or for ugliness, for gaiety or for sadness, for sweetness or for bitterness, for goodness or for wickedness, for need or for impervious independence. Then, if we wonder from what secret springs in ourselves gushes our love, our poor brain goes giddy from speculation, and we wonder what is all meaning and worth. Is it our own need that makes us lean toward and wish to succor need, or is it our strength? What way would our strength, if we had it, incline our heart? Do we give love in order to receive love, and even in the transport or endearment carry the usurer's tight-lipped and secret calculation, unacknowledged even by ourselves? Or do we give with an arrogance after all, a passion for self-definition? Or do we simply want a hand, any hand, a human object, to clutch in the dark on the blanket, and fear lies behind everything? Do we want happiness, or is it pain, pain as the index of reality, that we, in the chamber of our heart, want?
Oh, if I knew the answer, perhaps then I could feel free.
Tags: love coming-of-age
In my early teens, I heard about Naked Lunch and its mutating typewriters and talking cockroaches. While I would hardly classify its dystopic vision as erotica now, at the time, Naked Lunch was my first foray into consuming smut. It was because of Burroughs that I knew about the particular musk that blooms when a rectum is penetrated, and that death-by-hanging produces spontaneous trouser tents. The first Burroughs I read was Naked Lunch, but I buried myself in a few of his stories, and thus the arc of my recollection is just as non-linear as his narrative.
Peter DubéTags: books youth literature queer homosexuality coming-of-age erotica william-s-burroughs
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