Quote

So there are cakes and pillows and colors galore, but underneath this more obvious patchwork quilt are places like a quiet room where you can go and hold someone's hand and not have to say anything.

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Hands
Obvious
Quilts
Someone
Places
Pillows
Anything
Quiet
Cakes
Like
Room
Underneath
Color
Pillow
Hold
Colors
Galore
Rooms
Cake
Quilt
Hand
Bones
Patchwork

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The earth has a mouth?” Buckley asked. A big round mouth but with no lips,” my father said. Jack,” my mother said, laughing, “stop it. Do you know I caught him outside growling at the snapdragons?
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Please don't let Daddy die Susie, he whispered. I need him.
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A father's suspicion...' she began. Is as powerful as a mother's intuition.' ~pg 87, Ruana Singh and Jack Salmon
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Stones and bones snow and frost seeds and beans and polliwogs. Paths and twigs, assorted kisses, We all know who Daddy misses! His two little frogs of girls, that’s who. They know where they are, do you, do you?
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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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There wasn't a lot of bullshit in my heaven.
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She liked to imagine that when she passed the world looked after her, but she also knew how anonymous she was.
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The living deserve attention, too
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If I shut my eyes, I believed, I would disappear. To make it through, I had to be present the whole time.
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Each time I told my story, I lost a bit, the smallest drop of pain.
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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?
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I'm just a friendly bystander who they occasionally ask questions of. That's my level of involvement.
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These things, she felt, were not to be passed around like disingenuous party favors. She kept an honor code with her journals and her poems. 'Inside, inside,' she would whisper quietly to herself when she felt the urge to tell.
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The shadow of years was not as big on his small body. He knew I was away . But when people left they always came back.
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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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The damage can fester under layers of time and change, and an ignorant, thoughtless remark can easily reopen the wound.
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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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Well, as my dad would say, it means she’s out of this shithole.
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Books and novels in particular that grapple with quite a few things are difficult to explain, so I think that first line can come in a substitute for trying to form a longer sense of what the book is about.
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The moon is whole all the time, but we can’t always see it. What we see is an almost moon or not-quite moon. The rest is hiding just out of view, but there’s only one moon, so we follow it in the sky. We plan our lives based on its rhythms and tides.
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