Oftentimes, those special brains, the ones that are capable of focusing more intently than others, do so at the expense of emotional maturity

A gracefully effortless floating, flowing and flying are the essentials of the ballet’s image of man.

If I were a book, would you read me?
Would you open me and dissect my meaning?
Would you tear me apart like a confused feeling?
Would you throw me away or would you keep me?

He had married this creature, this figment of the imagination of a million masturbatory men, semen-fingered and self-satisfied.

Written By Gillian Flynn

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