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When the dead are done with the living, the living can go on to other things, Franny said. What about the dead? I asked. Where do we go?

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Done
Things
Bones
Asked
Dead
Living

More quotes by Alice Sebold

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It's hard, because when you talk about process or your characters ruling your narrative, it sounds like you have no control, but obviously you're ultimately the author, so you do have control.
Alice Sebold
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If I had but an hour of love,if that be all that is given me,an hour of love upon this earth,I would give my love to thee.
Alice Sebold
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As she stood in the darkened room and watched my sister and father, I knew one of things that heaven meant. I had a choice, and it was not to divide my family in my heart.
Alice Sebold
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He had been my almost. My might-have-been. I was afraid of what I wanted most - His kiss. Still, I collected kiss stories. -Susie Salmon
Alice Sebold
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Then a little voice in him said, Let go, let go, let go
Alice Sebold
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You could not be filled with hate and be beautiful. Like any other girl, I wanted to be beautiful. But I was filled with hate.
Alice Sebold
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I like gardening - it's a place where I find myself when I need to lose myself.
Alice Sebold
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Depending on where I am in the process, sometimes I have a page count and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I have an hour count sometimes I'm just happy to string a few words together. I do keep pretty rigorous hours, because otherwise you never get anything done.
Alice Sebold
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How could it be that you could love someone so much and keep it secret from yourself as you woke daily so far from home?
Alice Sebold
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When the music stopped, it could have been forever since we'd begun. My grandfather took a step back, and the light grew yellow at his back. 'I'm going,' he said. 'Where?' I asked. 'Don't worry, sweetheart. You're so close.' He turned and walked away, disappearing rapidly into spots and dust. Infinity.
Alice Sebold
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In this deeply nuanced portrait of an American family, Bret Anthony Johnston fearlessly explores the truth behind a mythic happy ending. In Remember Me Like This, Johnston presents an incisive dismantling of an all-too-comforting fallacy: that in being found we are no longer lost.
Alice Sebold
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Poison and medicine are often the same thing, given in different proportions
Alice Sebold
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Last night it had been my father who had finally said it: She’s never coming home. A clear and easy piece of truth that everyone who had ever known me had accepted. But he needed to say it, and she needed to hear him say it.
Alice Sebold
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I would do exactly what you are doing: I would talk to everyone I needed to, I would not tell too many people his name. When I was sure, she said, I would find a quiet way, and I would kill him.
Alice Sebold
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I missed her then but it was an odd sort of missing because by then, I knew the meaning of forever.
Alice Sebold
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The relationship with the words someone uses is more intimate and integrated than just a quick read and a blurb can ever be. This intimacy - the words on the page being sent back and forth from engaged editor to open author - is unique in my experience.
Alice Sebold
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Out loud I said I had two children. Silently I said three. I always felt like apologizing to her for that.
Alice Sebold
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He was beginning to understand: You were treated special and, later, something horrible would be told to you.
Alice Sebold
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The alcohol had the effect of making the black cloth blacker. This amused her she had noted in her journal: booze affects material as it does people.
Alice Sebold
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My name is Salmon, like the fish first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered.
Alice Sebold