Hello again, I'm back! Normandy was fantastic- Bayuex and its cathedral was so cool, the bread was gorgeous (but I had too much bleh ), Omaha was very thought provoking and deeply touching and me and my copine managed to ask for half a piece of bread to a very bored-looking market seller who looked like he was going to be sick from the amount of annoying english teenage tourists who couldn't pronounce french properly.
Anywho, I found a very wonderful book today called Horseradish, Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid by Lemony Snicket (same author of The Series of Unfortunate Events)and it is an amazing little book filled with quotes and opinions from him, and me being a devout pessimist absolutley loved it. Here are some of my favourite quotes from it:

Perhaps if we saw what was ahead of us, and glimpsed the crimes, follies, and misfortunes that would befall us later on, we would all stay in our mother’s wombs, and then there would be nobody in the world but a great number of very fat, irritated women.
Temper tantrums, however fun they may be to throw, rarely solve whatever problem is causing them.
The expression “Those who can’t do, teach” is a curious one, because if you look at the world, you’ll see that teachers aren’t particularly worse at doing things than anyone else, so perhaps the expression might be better worded as “Nobody can do anything.”
Business cards, of course, are not proof of anything. Anyone can go to a print shop and have cards that say anything they like. The king of Denmark can order business cards that say he sells golf balls. Your dentist can order business cards that say she is your grandmother. In order to escape from the castle of an enemy of mine, I once had cards printed that said I was an admiral in the French navy. Just because something is typed- whether it is typed on a business card or typed in a newspaper or book- this does not mean that it is true.
There is one, and only one, advantage to somebody who cannot play the violin insisting on doing so anyway, and the advantage is that they often play so loudly that they cannot hear if the audience is having a conversation.
It is always cruel to laugh at people, of course, although sometimes if they are wearing an ugly hat it is hard to control yourself.
One of the world’s tiresome questions is what object would one bring to a desert island, because people always answer “a deck of cards” or “Anna Karenina” when the obvious answer is “a well-equipped boat and crew to sail me off the island and back home where I can play all the card games and read all the Russian novels I want.”
If an optimist had his left arm chewed off by an alligator, he might say, in a pleasant and hopeful voice, “Well, this isn’t too bad. I don’t have my left arm anymore, but at least nobody will ever ask me whether I am right-handed or left-handed,” but most of us would say something along the lines of “Aaaaah! My arm! My arm!”
Frustration is an interesting emotional state, because it tends to bring out the worst in whoever is frustrated. Frustrated babies tend to throw food and make a mess. Frustrated citizens tend to execute kings and queens and make a democracy. And frustrated moths tend to bang up against light bulbs and make light fixtures all dusty. But unlike babies, citizens, and moths, leeches are quite unpleasant to begin with.
When someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is trying to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you don’t notice them, so they will not be embarrassed.
One of the remarkable things about love is that, despite very irritating people writing poems and songs about how pleasant it is, it really is quite pleasant.
Having an aura of menace is like having a pet weasel, because you rarely meet someone who has one, and when you do it makes you want to hide under the coffee table.
Taking one’s chances is like taking a bath, because sometimes you end up feeling comfortable and warm, and sometimes there is something terrible lurking around that you cannot see until it is too late and you can do nothing else but scream and cling to plastic duck.
Just about everything in this world is easier said than done, with the exception of “systematically assisting Sisyphus’s stealthy, cyst-susceptible sister,” which is easier done than said.
Stealing, of course, is a crime, and a very impolite thing to do. But like most impolite things, it is excusable under certain circumstances. Stealing is not excusable if, for instance, you are in a museum and you decide that a certain painting would look better in your house, and you simply grab the painting and take it there. But if you were very, very hungry, and you had no way of obtaining money, it might be excusable to grab the painting, take it to your house, and eat it.