“I am just a little lonely,” she whispered . “Come and hold me for a while.”
So they sat in silence as the moon opened its sleepy eyes and gazed down upon them. And sometime during the night his hand found the small of her back and two fingers lifted her chin until a ruler line could be drawn between their gazes.
And when the sun stretched its long rays and waved goodbye to the moon an eternity later, it could no longer distinguish, in the tangled haze, which limbs were his and which were hers.
S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #86
Burr is every bit as smart as Hamilton, and every bit as gifted, and he comes from the same amount of loss as Hamilton. But because of the way they are wired, Burr hangs back where Hamilton charges forward. I feel like I have been Burr in my life as many times as I have been Hamilton. I think we’ve all had moments where we’ve seen friends and colleagues zoom past us, either to success, or to marriage, or to homeownership, while we lingered where we were—broke, single, jobless. And you tell yourself, ‘Wait for it.’ —Lin-Manuel Miranda