"what are you going to do with a degree in english?" follow you around and whisper "the love song of j alfred prufrock" in your ear when you go on dates
"I detest the masculine point of view. I am bored by his heroism, virtue, and honour. I think the best these men can do is not talk about themselves anymore."
Virginia Woolf, The Pargiters: The Novel-Essay Portion of THE YEARS (via jaimelannister)