You could never be certain what you would find in a book that had spent time with someone else.
Stories of her children when they were small, their round little bodies barely containing their personalities, which bloomed and glittered and melted into her.
It was interesting. Isabelle thought, the children that chose you. Some come through your body; others came in cars in the middle of the night.
She found herself wondering at what point in her life she had ceased to be Gulliver and had become the strings holding him to the ground.
She simply didn’t have an interest in men anymore. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, she just knew how easily they broke.
You’re not traveling if you already know everything.
I am starting to think that maybe memories are like this dessert. I eat it, and it becomes a part of me, whether I remember it later or not.
I’ve been wondering,” Isabelle commented reflectively over dessert, “if it is foolish to make new memories when you know you are going to lose them.
Life is beautiful. Some people just remind you of that more than others.
She became a frame for the picture that was her son and daughter.
She felt about her zester the way some women do about a pair of spiky red shoes–a frivolous splurge, good only for parties, but oh so lovely.
We’re all just ingredients. What matters is the grace with which you cook the meal.
When a couple came to class together, it meant something else entirely – food as a solution, a diversion, or, occasionally, a playground.
Maybe your mind won’t remember what I cooked last week, but your body will.
Each person’s heart breaks in it’s own way. Every cure will be different, but there are some things we all need. Before anything else, we need to feel safe.
The women ranged in age, but they were all old enough to know that in the currency of friendship, empathy is more valuable than accuracy.
I walked across a bridge that doesn’t exist. And after that, being scared just didn’t seem so important anymore.
When Marion had been a teenager, she wanted a tattoo. As an oldest child who did mostly what was expected of her, she had been fascinated by the abandon tattoos implied, the willing, blind leap into commitment.