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Quote by Carter Wilson

“How do you define a vice, exactly? At what point does something cross the line between being a simple human frailty and a significant character flaw? [Rose Yates]”

Quote by Carter Wilson

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Carter Wilson

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“Impossible to find as otherness per se (obviously a dream); but at the same time---­ irreducible as a symbolic rule of the game, as a rule of the game that governs the world. The promiscuity and general confusion in which differences exist do not affect this rule of the game as such: it is not a rational law, nor is it a demonstrative process - we shall never have either metaphysical or scientific proof of this principle of foreignness and incomprehensibility: we simply have to accept it. The worst thing here is understanding, which is sentimental and useless. True knowledge is knowledge of exactly what we can never understand in the other, knowledge of what it is in the other that makes the other not oneself - and hence someone who can in no sense become separated from oneself, nor alienated by any look of ours, nor instituted by us in either identity or difference. (Never question others about their identity. In the case of America, the question of American identity was never at issue: the issue was America's foreignness.) If we do not understand the savage, it is for the same reason that he does not understand himself (the term 'savage' conveys this foreignness better than all later euphemisms). The rule of exoticism thus implies that one should not be fooled by understanding, by intimacy, by the country, by travel, by picturesqueness, or by oneself. The realm of radical exoticism, moreover, is not necessarily a function of travel: 'It is not essential, in order to feel the shock [of the exotic], to revive the old-fashioned episode of the voyage. [ ... ] The fact remains that such an episode and its setting are better than any other subterfuge for reaching this brutal, rapid and pitiless hand-to-hand conflict and making each blow count.' Travel is a subterfuge, then - but it is the most appropriate one of all.”

“There are some who relish the quiet life. Free of the frantic and discord. I used to be one of them; until my life got loud and dramatic, down right unbearable at moments. And now I love the volumes of my life. The adagio of my heart’s beating or the metronome of the rainfall. How can one expect to live without the welcome of the bird’s chirp in the morning or the night’s vehement winds pounding our window pane? The sound of joy, heartbreak, ecstasy. It is all for the fine tuning of our soul. We learn to calibrate the sounds of life. No more sensitivity, but making it all music. Go ahead, appreciate the soundtrack of your life. It makes for good dancing too.”

“Annie surveyed the boxes of board games stacked on the table. They had everything from Battleship to Cranium to Settlers of Catan, and even a game called Exploding Kittens. If this was a test, she wanted to pass, but she also didn’t want to risk life and limb, knowing how competitive Darcy and Brendon could get. “How about Scruples?” That sounded low risk. Margot grinned. “I like you.” Darcy shook her head. “We should finish with Scruples. I need more wine before I play that game.” Elle laughed. “Charades first?” “Fine.” Darcy dropped her head back against Elle’s thigh. “But we have to pick new teams.” “Normally Brendon and I partner up,” Margot explained. “It’s not safe to put those two”—she nodded at Darcy and Brendon—“on a team together. They’re ruthless.” “I replaced your coffee table, didn’t I?” Darcy arched a brow. “No harm, no foul.” “Brendon fell through the coffee table. It was scarring.” Margot shivered. “I thought we were going to have to drive him to the emergency room.”