|—||From The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy (via coffeeandnights)|
You get a little moody sometimes but I think that’s because you like to read. People that like to read are always a little fucked up.
You swear you’ll never become your parents. You listen to edgy music, you dress young and hip, you have sex standing up and on kitchen tables, you say “fuck” and “shit” a lot, and then one day, without warning, their words emerge from your mouth like long-dormant sleeper agents suddenly activated. You’re still young enough to hear these words through the ears of the teenager sitting beside you, and you realize how pitiful and ultimately futile your efforts will be, a few measly sandbags against the tidal wave of genetic destiny.
|—||from How to Talk to a Widower by Jonathan Tropper (via apura)|