"They took up so much space. That was the problem with men. It wasn't just the leg-sprawl and the clumping down stairs. It was the constant demand for attention. Sit in a room with another woman and you could think. Men had that little flashing light on top of their heads. Hello. It's me. I'm still here." (Out of: Mark Haddon, A Spot of Bother)
Well, I say... it depends on who does the describing..
This book has been seriously entertaining with just the right mixture of sadness and being funny, of despair and of joy.
I think I should go upstairs, just as George in the book, get some Diazepam, drink a bottle of wine, then put my ear on the ground, look at raindrops in the grass, at spiderwebs, at the stars above, smile at the fog behind, hover above just prior to leaving and grin at my drunk self one more last time.
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