"A trickle of blood came out under the door, crossed the living room, went out into the street, continued on in a straight line across the uneven terraces, went down steps and climbed over curbs, passed along the Street of the Turks, turned a corner to the right and another to the left, made a right angle at the Buendía house, went in under the closed door, crossed through the parlor, hugging the walls so as not to stain the rugs, went on to the other living room, made a wide curve to avoid the dining-room table, went along the porch with the begonias, and passed without being seen under Amaranta’s chair as she gave an arithmetic lesson to Aureliano José, and went through the pantry and came out in the kitchen, where Úrsula was getting ready to crack thirty-six eggs to make bread.
“Holy Mother of God!” Úrsula shouted."
—One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez
I am using this quote as an epigraph for my marathon of a paper due tonight and it is quite possibly the best epigraph I have preface a paper with.
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And I don’t like being confrontational with my brother.
But he expels so much hatred.
And it ranges from hatred of my dietary choices, to other people’s religious beliefs, and to other people’s sexual orientations.
And I really don’t like being confrontational to my brother.
But it’s necessary sometimes? For real-world-life reasons?
My brother think that his opinions “don’t affect other people, because other people’s opinions don’t effect [him],” which gives him free reign to use whatever words he pleases.
And even though i love being with my family so much, I just can’t wait 3 weeks for me to get back to my job, campus, community.
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