“
I hated labels anyway. People didn’t fit in slots—prostitute, housewife, saint—like sorting the mail. We were so mutable, fluid with fear and desire, ideals and angles, changeable as water.
White Oleander, Janet Fitch (via fuckyeahliteraryquotes) (via abetterresurrection)
(Reblogged from abetterresurrection)

Notes

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