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I watched my beautiful sister running . . . and I knew she was not running away from me or toward me. Like someone who has survived a gut-shot, the wound had been closing, closing - braiding into a scar for eight long years.
Alice Sebold
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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Running
Sister
Away
Wounds
Beautiful
Shot
Wound
Someone
Bones
Closing
Long
Shots
Scar
Years
Eight
Survived
Like
Toward
Watched
Knew
Guts
More quotes by Alice Sebold
The sun came through the branches of the tree above her, and Ruth looked up past them. I think she listens, she said, too softly to be heard.
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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.
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You look invincible,' my mother said one night. I loved these times, when we seemed to feel the same thing. I turned to her, wrapped in my thin gown, and said: I am.
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To transform experience and thought into language and narrative - that is beautiful even if that beauty is in brokenness.
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I'm just a friendly bystander who they occasionally ask questions of. That's my level of involvement.
Alice Sebold
Heaven is comfort, but it's still not living.
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Poison and medicine are often the same thing, given in different proportions
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He was beginning to understand: You were treated special and, later, something horrible would be told to you.
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Loss could be used as a measure of beauty in a woman.
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I left my mark on that man.
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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.
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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.
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People grow up by living.
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but, he also said it because part of him wanted more of her, this cold woman who was not exactly cold, this rock who was not stone.
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She no longer believed in talk. It never rescued anything.
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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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I would like to tell you that I am, and you will one day be, forever safe.
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Our only kiss was like an accident- a beautiful gasoline rainbow.
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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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As if in the other side of his kiss there could ve a new life
Alice Sebold