There are times in our lives when we have to realize our past is precisely what it is, and we cannot change it. But we can change the story we tell ourselves about it, and by doing that, we can change the future.
Despite his money and his looks and all the good-on-paper attributes he possessed, he was not a reader, and, well, let’s just say that is the sort of nonsense up with which we will not put.
The question to ask is what will satisfy you? What will bring you peace? And perhaps the answer to those is in asking yourself when you were last happy.
Instead, we’d do what we always did, the only thing we’d ever been dependably stellar at: we’d read.
Cordy slept late, awakening only when the noises of the house and the insistent sunlight became to obvious to be believably incorporated into her dreams any longer.
I have loved this disaster of a library since I was old enough to read.
Bean felt a rush of sweet nostalgia for the woman who had introduced us to E. Nesbit and Edward Eager and Laura Ingalls Wilder…
she wondered how she could have spent all that money and have nothing but clothes and accessories and a long list of men she never wanted to see again to show for it
Imagine what could happen if we all had the heart to be who we truly are.
We don’t just come from the womb bearing our talents. They grow from all the things we learn.