#bibliosmile

[pinkhairedwoman]

Currently Reading…

[vanity-feral-blog]

Many of the great hairdos of bygone ages, I'd found, survived to this day in isolated pockets of Pittsburgh.

Michael Chabon, Wonderboys

[vanity-feral-blog]

In Pittsburgh, perhaps more than anywhere else in our languid nation, a barmaid does not care.

Michael Chabon, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh

[vanity-feral-blog]

There were swollen pink buds on the camellia bushes, beaded with rain, and I thought I smelled an early hint of the mysterious bittersweet gas that fills Pittsburgh in the summertime, a smell at once industrial and aboriginal, river water and sulfur dioxide, burning tires and the coat of a fox. I put my hand on the Swiss Army Knife in my pocket and looked out at the morning with a caffeine quiver of hope in my spine and at the tips of my fingers.

Michael Chabon, Wonderboys

[vanity-feral-blog]

In Pittsburgh, even the cicadas are industrial.

Michael Chabon, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh

[vanity-feral-blog]

My girl Sarah Gardner Borden in today's Daily News.

[vanity-feral-blog]

Otherwise, Lilian claimed to have few pleasures: she was at home as seldom as possible, and when at home was always washing her hair. She walked about with the rather fated expression you see in photographs of girls who have subsequently been murdered, but nothing had so far happened to her. . . .

Elizabeth Bowen, The Death of the Heart

[vanity-feral-blog]

Experience isn't interesting till it begins to repeat itself—in fact, till it does that, it hardly is experience.

Elizabeth Bowen, The Death of the Heart