But maybe it’s what the world needs. A little less sense, and a little more faith.
That was why Peg loved the Messiah best of all. Because it showed people they were not alone. No matter about their differences, the music lifted them up and lowered them down, only to raise them even higher. It worked like a spell.
Like music, said Peg. Even when it was over, it kept living inside you.
Jazz was about the spaces between notes. It was about what happened when you listened to the thing inside you. The gaps and the cracks. Because that was where life really happened, when you were brave enough to free-fall.
Silently he had moved within her until deep inside she opened like a flower.
All in all, I’d heard people do a lot of things with words. I’d heard them not say what they meant and I’d seen them not do what they said, but I’d never met a person who could speak so simply and still convey so much.
Mrs. Sussex said Byron’s loss would grow more bearable. But here was the nub: he didn’t want to lose his loss. Loss was all he had left of his mother. If time healed the gap, it would be as if she’d never been there.
Sometimes caring for something already growing is more perilous than planting something new.
Sometimes you cannot clear the past completely. You must live alongside your sorrow.
The people he met, the places he passed, were all steps in his journey, and he kept a place inside his heart for each of them.
If I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, it stands to reason that I’m going to get there.
If we can’t accept what we don’t know, there really is no hope.
Jim looks out the car window with his nose pressed to the glass. Sometimes he pretends to be asleep. Not because he is tired, but because he needs to be quiet.
Things don’t so much end as disappear. They don’t so much begin as turn up. You think there will be a time to say goodbye, but people have often gone before you know about it. And I don’t just mean the dying.
The sky and the sun are always there. It’s the clouds that come and go.
I actually hate Christmas,” says Eileen. “Everybody has this idea you have to have a good time, like happiness comes in a ruddy packet.” Her face is flushed with heat. “One time, I stayed in bed all day. That was one of my best Christmases.
Queenie Hennessy – “I am here to die.”Sister Mary Inconnue – “Pardon me but you are here to live until you die. There is a significant difference.
It was hard to understand a little and then walk away.
…People would make the decisions they wished to make and some of them would hurt both themselves and those who loved them, and some would pass unnoticed, while others would bring joy.
I went through a stage of writing my cramped hand in tiny books. My two sisters and I did have our Bronte period. My mum is from Yorkshire, and we would go up to the Moors. It tapped into our romantic visions of ourselves.