The void is my friend.
Continue reading “Review: Eichmann in Jerusalem by Hannah Arendt”The trouble with Eichmann was precisely that so many were like him, and that the many were neither perverted nor sadistic, that they were, and still are, terribly and terrifying normal.
Page 276, Epilogue
Continue reading “Review: The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab”Addie has said so many hellos, but that was the first and only time she got to say good-bye. That kiss, like a piece of long-awaited punctuation. Not the em dash of an interrupted line, or the ellipsis of a quiet escape, but a period, a closed parenthesis, an end.
The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
