Cities at night, I feel, contain men who cry in their sleep and then say Nothing. It’s nothing. Just sad dreams. Or something like that… Swing low in your weep ship, with your tear scans and sob probes, and you would mark them. Women - and they can be wives, lovers, gaunt muses, fat nurses, obsessions, devourers, exes, nemeses - will wake and turn to these men and ask, with female need-to-know, «What is it?» And the men will say, «Nothing. No it isn’t anything really. Just sad dreams.»
—Martin Amis - The Information
Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.
—W. Churchill (via robba)
I used to compare all men to my ex-boyfriend. Now I compare all men to the entertainment standard of my smartphone.
TOBY «51 yea votes is what we see on the screen before a drop of wine is swallowed! Because there’s a little thing called what, Bonnie?»
BONNIE «Tempting fate?»
TOBY «’Tempting fate’ is what it’s called. In the three months this man has been on my radar screen, I have aged 48 years. This is my day of jubilee and I will not have it screwed up by what, Bonnie?»
BONNIE «By tempting fate.»
TOBY «By tempting fate! These things take patience. These things take skill. These things take luck. In the 15 months we’ve been in office, what kind of luck have we had, Ginger?»
GINGER «Bad luck.»
TOBY «What kind of luck?»
GINGER «Very bad luck.»
TOBY «We’ve had very bad luck.»