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He would find his Susie,inside his young son. Give that love to the living.

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Give
Find
Giving
Would
Susie
Love
Son
Inside
Living
Young

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As if in the other side of his kiss there could ve a new life
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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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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
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In my 20s, I railed against anything 'spiritual', I thought it was all crap.
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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
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I'm fine with whatever comes my way, and whatever doesn't come my way I'm fine with too. I have a very laissez-faire attitude with the whole thing.
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Well, it's my voice, so it's more accessible that way, and there are also all sorts of things like plot and timelines that are already known entities, so for me, it's very different from writing fiction.
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Learn a language of another country and then you can go to that country: a place where the problems of your family will not follow. A language they do not speak.
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My name is Salmon, like the fish first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered.
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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.
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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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Hey, Ocean Eyes,” my father said. “Where’d you go on us?
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There was one thing my murderer didn't understand he didn't understand how much a father could love his child.
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Sometimes you cry, Susie, even when someone you love has been gone a long time.
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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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I have always felt extremely weird. But I am very happy with my weirdnesses, and I want other people to be very happy with theirs.
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I tried to take solace in Holiday, our dog. I missed him in a way I hadn't yet let myself miss my mother and father, my sister and brother. That way of missing would mean that I had accepted that I would never be with them again it might sound silly but I didn't believe it, would not believe it.
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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.
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He took the hat from my mouth. ''Tell me you love me'', he said. Gently I did. The end came anyway
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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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