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But she was waiting patiently. She no longer believed in talk. It never rescued anything. At seventy she had come to believe in time alone. ~pg 254

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Time
Longer
Alone
Waiting
Talk
Rescued
Anything
Patiently
Come
Seventy
Believe
Seventies
Never
Believed

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The damage can fester under layers of time and change, and an ignorant, thoughtless remark can easily reopen the wound.
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You save yourself or you remain unsaved.
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I wanted to be the moron of the family, because morons seemed to have more fun, more freedom and more personality.
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Hold still, my father would say, while I held the ship in the bottle and he burned away the strings he'd raised the mast with and set the clipper ship free on its blue putty sea. And I would wait for him, recognizing the tension of that moment when the world in the bottle depended, solely, on me.
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I think that if you're somebody who's a control freak, the process would make you crazy, but I'm kind of a process freak, so I'm excited to see what he does with it. I know it's not going to be my book, so just starting with that knowledge frees me from having to get all freaked out about it.
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You're not supposed to look back, you're supposed to keep going.
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I don't do much public speaking. I did a lot of stuff for Bones, and then ended up having said yes to a lot of things that kept me on the road for a while for that, but then I pretty much stopped. I'm touring for this book, but when the tour is done, that'll be the end of it.
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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.
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At fourteen, my sister sailed away from me into a place I’d never been. In the walls of my sex there was horror and blood, in the walls of hers there were windows.
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Since then I've always thought that under rape in the dictionary it should tell the truth. It is not just forcible intercourse rape means to inhabit and destroy everything.
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Like a medical procedure,' Ruth said. 'Intricate surgery is needed to patch up the planet.
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Murder had a blood red door on the other side of which was everything unimaginable to everyone.
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I think you only learn what kind of personality you have by committing to things.
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How to Commit the Perfect Murder was an old game in heaven. I always chose the icicle: the weapon melts away.
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Do you miss Susie? Because it was dark, because Ruth was facing away from her,because Ruth was almost a stranger, Lindsey said what she felt. More than anyone will ever know.
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The dead are never exactly seen by the living, but many people seem acutely aware of something changed around them. They speak of a chill in the air. The mates of the deceased wake from dreams and see a figure standing at the end of thier bed, or in a doorway, or boarding, phantomlike, a city bus.
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One thing about failing repeatedly: If you're still doing it after you've failed that much, you really mean it.
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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.
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I loved the way the burned-out flashcubes of the Kodak Instamatic marked a moment that had passed, one that would now be gone forever except for a picture.
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And my sister, my Lindsey, left me in her memories, where I was meant to be.
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