The story of my life can be told in silver: in chocolate mills, serving spoons, and services for twelve. The story of my life has nothing to do with me. The story of my life is things. Things that arenโt mine, that wonโt ever be mine. Itโs all Iโve ever known. I wish it wasnโt.
Elizabeth ScottI don't eat bread.' Is she pouting? It's hard to tell. She's had a lot of chemicals injected into her face.
Elizabeth ScottIt could be enough, maybe, or at least a start, but the problem is that at night I tumble into dreams that aren't dreams at all. I tumble into memories and wake up aching for a dying world and a quiet, cold life that offered me nothing but sitting in a still room.
Elizabeth Scott