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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.

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Didn
Children
Thing
Much
Love
Murderer
Child
Understand
Father

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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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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.
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As she brought prospective buyers through, the realtor said it was an oil stain, but it was me, seeping out of the bag.
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Then a little voice in him said, Let go, let go, let go
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Nothing is ever certain.
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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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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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Every day a question mark.
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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.
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I like gardening - it's a place where I find myself when I need to lose myself.
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Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun it cannot be contained.
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Like snowflakes,' Franny said,'none of them the same and yet each one, from where we stand, exactly like the one before
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Part of the creative process for me is an invitation for readers to follow their imagination.
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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.
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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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I wish you all a long and happy 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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She sat in her room on the couch my parents had given up on and worked on hardening herself. Take deep breaths and hold them. Try to stay still for longer and longer periods of time. Make yourself small and like a stone. Curl the edges of yourself up and fold them under where no one can see. ~pg 29, Susie's sister Lindsey dealing with grief.
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I'm just a friendly bystander who they occasionally ask questions of. That's my level of involvement.
Alice Sebold
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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.
Alice Sebold