Killers aren’t always assassins. Sometimes, they don’t even have blood on their hands.
Good men are often more practical than pretty ” said Mother. “Andrius just happens to be both.
How did I get here How did I end up in the arms of a boy I barely knew but knew I didn’t want to lose I wondered what I would have thought of Andrius in Lithuania. Would I have liked him Would he have liked me
I felt as if I were riding a pendulum. Just as I would swing into the abyss of hopelessness, the pendulum would swing back with some small goodness.
…we’re dealing with two devils who both want to rule hell.
They were happy to help someone, to succeed at something, even if they weren’t to benefit.
I leapt eagerly into books. The characters’ lives were so much more interesting than the lonely heartbeat of my own.
We cannot be too cautious, Hannelore. Just because someone knocks on the door doesn’t mean you have to open it. Sometimes, sweet girl, there are wolves at the door. If we are not careful, they might eat us.
I didn’t need his criticism. I carried enough guilt on my own. I had done everything wrong. I had the highest marks in school but couldn’t master common sense.
What did I want? I wanted the war to be over so I could ask her out.
Just when you think this war has taken everything you loved, you meet someone and realize that somehow you still have more to give.
The soldier stared at Ingrid. His silence was elastic, slowly curling a rope around her neck.
Revolting. If women were so careless to become pregnant at such a time, let women sort it out.
Mother, why are you breaking your beautiful things?’ I asked…’Because I love them so much.
Everyone has a price,” she said.“But clearly not everyone has a soul,
I knew the legends of the birds. Seagulls were the souls of dead soldiers. Owls were the souls of women. Doves were the recently departed souls of unmarried girls.Was there a bird for the souls of people like me?
War had bled color from everything, leaving nothing but a storm of gray.
What had human beings become? Did war make us evil or just activate an evil already lurking within us?
My war had been so long, my winter so cold. But i had made it home. And for the first time in a long time, i was not afraid.
I wanted to stay locked away from the pain and destruction. I didn’t want to be strong. I didn’t want to be the ‘smart girl’. I was so very tired. I just wanted it all to be over.
Mother was anchor. Mother was comfort. Mother was home. A girl who lost her mother was suddenly a tiny boat on an angry ocean. Some boats eventually floated ashore. And some boats, like me, seemed to float farther and farther from land.
But unlike Mama, I would not go to heaven. My secrets padlocked the gates. I’d be a torn kite stuck in the dead branches of a tree, unable to fly.
War is catastrophe. It breaks families in irretrievable pieces. But those who are gone are not necessarily lost.
Your daughter, your sister. She is salt to the sea,
How foolish to believe we are more powerful than the sea or the sky.
There’s a saying, ‘Death hath a thousand doors to let out life; I shall find one.’ But the children. That’s what I struggle with.’ He shook his head. ‘Why the children?
But wasn’t there some sort of rule that said parents had to be smarter than their kids? It didn’t seem fair.
But how can they just decide that we’re animals? They don’t even know us,” I said.”We know us,” said Mother. “They’re wrong. And don’t ever allow them to convince you otherwise. Do you understand?
It’s safer for you to stay with the others,’ he said.Safer? He didn’t realize.I was already dead.
They got everything money can buy, their bank accounts are fat, but they ain’t happy. They ain’t ever gonna be happy. You know why? They soul broke. And money can’t fix that, no sir.
Mother was comfort. Mother was home. A girl who lost her mother was suddenly a tiny boat on an angry ocean. Some boats eventually floated ashore. And some boats, like me, seemed to float farther and farther from land
You stand for what is right, Lina, without the expectation of gratitude or reward.
They have a baby grand piano, but no one in the family plays. They have shelves of books they’ve never read, and the tension between the couples was so thick it nearly choked us.
I stared at the enormous homes, the landscaping and flower beds immaculate. It was as if dollar bills, instead of leaves, hung from the trees.
No Son [. . .] Not a traitor to your country. Much worse. A traitor to your soul.
My arm began moving, turning the invisible crank of Death’s music box. Somewhere inside, I didn’t want the melody to end.
I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.
We sat and drank in silence. It was something I appreciated about Jesse. He didn’t feel the need to fill every moment with talk or some sort of silly exchange.
We pushed to the edge of recklessness, yet I felt safe.
Per aspera ad astra, Papa,’ I whispered. Through hardship to the stars.
He wrapped his arms around me and planted a kiss straight on my lips, hard and long. It felt like I was watching the kiss instead of being inside of it.
Well, I don’t know, Lina. But let’s just say I’ve met a lot of dead people.
And she didn’t judge nobody. She loved everyone equal- accountants, queers, musicians, she welcomed us all, said we were all idiots just the same.
The only reason I’d lift my skirt is to pull a pistol and plug you in the head.
He wanted to know something about me. I leaned over and put my mouth to his ear. It was barely a whisper.’I’m a murderer.
Perhaps tomorrow I would actually put pen to paper.
He threw his burning cigarette onto our clean living room floor and ground it into the wood with his boot.We were about to become cigarettes.
But all of the survivors had one thing in common, and that was love. They survived through love. Whether love of friend, love of country, love of God, or even love of enemy—love reveals to us the truly miraculous nature of the human spirit.
I don’t want to see no dead body. Willie ain’t in there. She put her walkin’ shoes on. She gone to see the Lord.
All the little duckies with their heads in the waterHeads in the waterAll the little duckies with their heads in the waterOh, such sweet little duckies.
We’d be trying to touch the sky from the bottom of the ocean. I realize that if we boosted one another, maybe we’d get a little closer.
You stand for what is right, without the expectation of gratitude or reward.
It grey louder. Louder. They were singing, singing at the top of their lungs. Andrius joined, and then my brother and the gray-haired man. And finally, the bald man joined in, singing out national anthem. ‘Lithuania, land of heroes…
What if this is a horrible mistake?” I croaked. “Oh, it’ll be horrible fine, just a bunch of pretentious rich people with shelves of expensive books they’ve never read.
New Orleans is unlike any city in America. Its cultural diversity is woven into the food, the music, the architecture – even the local superstitions. It’s a sensory experience on all levels and there’s a story lurking around every corner.