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But I know I would not go out. I had taken this time to fall in love instead — in love with the sort of helplessness I had not felt in death — the helplessness of being alive, the dark bright pity of being human — feeling as you went, groping in corners and opening your arms to light - all of it part of navigating the unknown.

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Part
Feeling
Corners
Human
Taken
Pity
Humans
Dark
Opening
Would
Fall
Arms
Navigating
Time
Death
Instead
Groping
Love
Felt
Went
Helplessness
Feelings
Sort
Unknown
Light
Alive
Bright

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I had always been in love with him. I counted the lashes of each closed eye. He had been my almost, my might have been, and I did not want to leave him
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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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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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Poison and medicine are often the same thing, given in different proportions
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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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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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Hey, Ocean Eyes,” my father said. “Where’d you go on us?
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And my sister, my Lindsey, left me in her memories, where I was meant to be.
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He had a moment of clarity about how life should be lived: not as a child or as a woman. They were the two worst things to be.
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Every day a question mark.
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Sometimes the dreams that come true are the dreams you never even knew you had.
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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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Then a little voice in him said, Let go, let go, let go
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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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You could not be filled with hate and be beautiful. Like any other girl, I wanted to be beautiful. But I was filled with hate.
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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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I like gardening - it's a place where I find myself when I need to lose myself.
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I watched my brother and my father. The truth was very different from what we learned in school. The truth was the line between the living and the dead could be, it seemed, murky and blurred.
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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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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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