欧宝娱乐

“It is shocking how many crimes the Bible contains. The Governor's wife should cut them all out and paste them into her scrapbook.”
― Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace

“She flipped through the notebook. In most places, Murphy鈥檚 large, crooked handwriting ate up the pages greedily, as if she couldn鈥檛 write large enough to get her point across. Occasionally Birdie鈥檚 more graceful handwriting appeared, adding asides or participating with Murphy in some kind of list she had thrown together, like favorite Leeda moments, or most unknown things about Leeda, or Leeda鈥檚 top five best articles of clothing.
Mostly, though, it was all Murphy. Listing albums Leeda had to own before she died, like Janis Joplin鈥檚 Pearl. Copied scraps of her favorite poetry: about nature and despair and cities and even one or two about love that Murphy had annotated with words like Sickening, but she鈥檚 good and Horrible but worth reading. Dried leaves---pecan, magnolia, and, of course, the thin slivered shape of the peach leaf---taped in messy crisscrosses. A cider label Birdie had once kissed. A diagram of Leeda---outlined sloppily with colored-in blond hair, with words on the outside pointing to different parts of her: brainy pointing to her head, good posture pointing to her back, hot gams pointing to her legs, impenetrable (ha ha) pointing to her heart.”
― Jodi Lynn Anderson, The Secrets of Peaches

“The first page held a picture of a hazel blossom that Catherine had drawn. It had been pulled from its file, laminated with clear plastic, and secured to the album with gold photo corners. Below the drawing was my daughter's name, Hazel Jones-Hastings, in Elizabeth's elegant script, and her birthday, March 1, which wasn't her birthday at all.”
― Vanessa Diffenbaugh, The Language of Flowers

“. As a kid, I wore toilet paper veils and practiced walking down the aisle. I dreamed of my first dance and picked a new song every few years. I had a scrapbook of wedding themes down to the cake decorations. When I had tried to share this with Fiona after she proposed, she laughed at me, saying the patriarchy poisoned me.”
― Valentine Glass, Jarring Sex