i would make a terrible general. i have no idea how to pick my battles; in my playbook, anything’s worth waging war. i’d have soldiers all over the place, picking fights with trees.
aren’t zombies just another form of ex-es?
we try to bury them, they keep coming back.
it’s the same person, and yet, not the same.
Working at a variety of jobs, as a photographer, truck driver and stenographer at the local telephone company, she managed to save $1,000 for flying lessons. Earhart had her first lessons, beginning on January 3, 1921, at Kinner Field near Long Beach but to reach the airfield Amelia took a bus to the end of the line, then walked four miles (6 km).[34] Her teacher was Anita “Neta” Snook, a pioneer female aviator who used a surplus Curtiss JN-4 “Canuck” for training. Amelia arrived with her father and a singular request, “I want to fly. Will you teach me?”[35]
i always wanted to be the green one.
the brooklyn botanic garden might be my favorite place ever.
my experience of new york as a transplant is, i think, totally different from a native’s. walking to work in the west village past the cherry blossoms and the fire station, i feel pretty lucky to be here.
“I send you another original tale,” Poe once began a letter, and, at its end, added one line more: “P.S. I am poor.”
summer soundtrack.
