The truth is, time marches on and you have two choices: You move forward, come what may, and you experience all the sour and sweet things that fly at you from around corners, or you sit still. Don’t sit still.
The air between them began to settle into a silence. Awkward, yet softly exciting. Like an unexpected snow day.
Life,” said Simone St. James…”is stitched together from a series of mistakes, some little, some big, like the patches on the clothes we wore growin’ up, you know
Regular people have such a hard time listening to the low hum of instinct.
You. You are standing in your own way. And that means whatever it is scares you. It won’t forever…but take your time. Nothing good was ever rushed.
You really are a chameleon, aren’t you? Fitting in wherever you go.”Aren’t we all?” she said…
Father and Ivy used to go off on their excursions, never knowing that I was relieved when they were gone. That I’d wear my nightgowns all day and read from dawn till dusk.
Sometimes it’s the smallest secrets that hold the most hope, the most fun, the most danger.
I wouldn’t want to live that life. I choose the pain. I chose the pain.
The kitchen of the Big House was always one of my favorite places. Airy and sunny. No modern cabinets or anything like that. Just a room full of windows, set into wise, worn walls.
The kitchen door, painted red from the day Naomi moved in, and a geranium, also red, outside on the stoop, gave the whole area a feeling of whimsy.
You’ll be just fine,” he said. “Listen to your heart and mind together, that’s the trick. Not one or the other, both.
You’re a girl on fire. And it seems to me, you been dousing those flames for years. Let yourself burn a little.
Pain is like a map, I guess. But I found my shortcut on my “map of the heart.” Shortcuts always take longer, don’t they?
Too much work, I guess, to figure out each person as a whole instead of parts of this and parts of that.
I’d forgotten so many important things. I’d stolen away my own past. It made me feel like a coward.
Do you love her?’ she asked him.’Always have,’ he said.’Then why in the world would you leave her alone?
The only problem is the heart is quiet. It takes a very special kind of person to hear what the heart says. Most can’t hear it at all and they have to guess. There are a lot of people walking around just guessing.
Love should never be a secret and it should never, ever be forgotten.
I don’t pay no mind to rules. Seems to me, rules are things made up by scared people too afraid to die, so they can’t live. Or too lazy to make their own decisions. Rules are for breakin’, as far as I’m concerned.