The Bronze Medal

15 notes  |  July 12th, 2014
My sister got married yesterday, and since it was 7-11, we stopped to get free slurpees on the way to the wedding. Someone driving by saw us and took this photo, which my sister’s friend found on Instagram today.

My sister got married yesterday, and since it was 7-11, we stopped to get free slurpees on the way to the wedding. Someone driving by saw us and took this photo, which my sister’s friend found on Instagram today.

23,298 notes  |  April 9th, 2014

losertakesall:

for misterbrainley

(Source: doctaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa)

4 notes  |  February 20th, 2014
I’m just gonna write “hockey” on a dollar and leave it next to these jars.

I’m just gonna write “hockey” on a dollar and leave it next to these jars.

6 notes  |  February 13th, 2014

And what next, he asked, to which I had no answer. New subjects, I told him, and new verbs. I had no idea what those would involve, I admitted, but my days would have something like a new vocabulary.

— Chloe Aridjis, Asunder

6 notes  |  January 22nd, 2014

We respect your privacy. And we are not going to peek into your emails anymore. You can consider this an early birthday present, which you are receiving two days before the surprise party at Red Lobster that your family has been planning via Gchat conversations for the past two weeks.”

32 notes  |  January 2nd, 2014
Yeah, but does your library have a milk carton igloo?

Yeah, but does your library have a milk carton igloo?

31 notes  |  December 24th, 2013

Unlikely truths are useful and life is full of them, far more than the very worst of novels, no novel would ever dare give houseroom to the infinite number of chances and coincidences that can occur in a single lifetime, let alone all those that have already occurred and continue to occur. It’s quite shameful the way reality imposes no limits on itself.

— Javier Marias, The Infatuations. (via paperbackgirl)

18 notes  |  November 20th, 2013

But really good artists had lots of empty in their paintings or whatever they did. They left everything out, or most things anyway, but suggested something, so that she could take her own things into the painting, and the best art of all was when she didn’t really know what she was taking in with her, but it felt right, and when she looked at that art and took herself into it she felt amazing.

— Keith Ridgway, Hawthorn & Child

8 notes  |  November 19th, 2013
Our Lincoln impersonator is a bit confused by the library’s automated book sorter.

Our Lincoln impersonator is a bit confused by the library’s automated book sorter.

25 notes  |  November 7th, 2013

Paul Simon was joking that his upcoming tour with Sting should be called "The Sound of Every Breath". My coworkers and I thought of some other options at lunch today: 

"50 Ways to Leave Your Englishman in New York"

"You Can Call Me Roxanne"

"Don’t Stand So Close to Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard."

68 notes  |  November 3rd, 2013

If a painting really works down in your heart and changes the way you see, and think, and feel, you don’t think, “oh, I love this painting because it’s universal.” “I love this painting because it speaks to all mankind.” That’s not the reason anyone loves a piece of art. It’s a secret whisper from an alleyway. Psst, you. Hey kid. Yes you.

— Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

7 notes  |  October 13th, 2013

We have had enough of a story to settle into; events have taken place; relationships have been developed or shattered; people have died, or simply grown up; and then there is one step more, that Munrovian step, that takes the story suddenly to a new place. Then, instead of leaving us there, reeling, astounded by the shift—as a lesser writer might—Alice gently carries us forward, through the revelation, through the surprise or shock of it, to some kind of understanding, some acceptance, whether rueful or joyful. Nothing is neatly wrapped up, but we are shown a path through the wilderness.

— Deborah Treisman, on Alice Munro.