My cousin Helen, who is in her 90s now, was in the Warsaw ghetto during World War II. She and a bunch of the girls in the ghetto had to do sewing each day. And if you were found with a book, it was an automatic death penalty. She had gotten hold of a copy of ‘Gone With the Wind’, and she would take three or four hours out of her sleeping time each night to read. And then, during the hour or so when they were sewing the next day, she would tell them all the story. These girls were risking certain death for a story. And when she told me that story herself, it actually made what I do feel more important. Because giving people stories is not a luxury. It’s actually one of the things that you live and die for.
— Neil Gaiman (via jaynestown)
people who think they’re funny for interrupting the teacher every 2 seconds during a lesson must be eliminated
look if you unironically say ‘money can’t buy happiness’ then either you’ve never faced a real financial struggle or you’ve achieved enlightenment, because goddamn does financial security feel an awful lot like happiness when it’s something you’re not used to
"begin your essay with an interesting fact or quote"
im gonna fucking ACE this essay
I was at the mall today and overheard this dude talking to two lesbian chicks. I hear him ask, “So which one of you is the guy in your relationship?” And the one girl looks into her pants and says, “It’s not me. How bout you? Are you hiding a dick in there?” Then her girlfriend looks in her pants and says, “Nope, I’m not.” Then the first chick looks at the dude and says, “Hmmm, guess that’s why we are lesbians.” And then I lost my shit.