One of the mixed blessings of being twenty and twenty-one and even twenty-three is the conviction that nothing like this, all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, has ever happened to anyone before.
Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem (via archipelagogo)
At a summer fiction class at NYU I took, we read Slouching. And I’m sure most of it was lost on me. Filed under: Re-read.