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What's the point of being a grown-up if you can't indulge the kid inside you every now and then?

Jacqueline Carey

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Jacqueline Carey
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Highland Park
Illinois
Indulge
Grown
Inside
Point
Kids
Every

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If you will not die for us, you cannot ask us to die for you.
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It's funny, how one can look back on a sorrow one thought one might well die of at the time, and know that one had not yet reckoned the tenth part of true grief.
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It is not everyday that one learns an entire militia has sworn unbeknownest to obey you
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Pain obliterates everything else. In pain, there is only the eternal present.
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I would that I could have stopped time and preserved that day forever. It was a perfect day. There was the shadow of sorrow, yes. It would always be there. But that was the nature of life. The bright mirror and the dark, reflecting one another. And today there was so much brightness.
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After you, it's all cheap tequila.
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For this too I learned, that a storyteller's tale may end, but history goes on always. These events, so distant in legend, play a part in shaping the very events we witness about us, each and every day.
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When Love cast me out, it was Cruelty who took pity upon me
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What is fear but courage's shadow?
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There are those who are awkward in the face of sorrow, fearing to say the wrong thing to them, I say, there is no wrong in comfort, ever. A kind word, a consoling arm ... these things are ever welcome.
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Even a stunted tree reaches for sunlight.
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It is a comfort, in anguish, to be reminded of the scale of one's own troubles against the mighty breadth of the world.
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There are patterns which emerge in one's life, circling and returning anew, an endless variation on a theme. So musicians say the greatest sonatas are composed whether or not it is true, I do not know, but of a surety I have seen it emerge in the tapestry of my life.
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Beauty is at its most poignant when the cold hand of Death holds poised to wither it imminently.
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Soon never comes soon enough to a young child.
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True friendship must be akin to romance, I think. only without all the anguish and anxiety.
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I wondered if he could ever understand that it was a blessing, not a sin, to be graced with more than one love. It could be complicated of course it could be complicated. And it opened one up to the possibility of more pain and loss. Still, it was a blessing I would never relinquish. Love, genuine love, was always a cause for joy.
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This is the secret that none dares tell who fights for a cause. Dying, we are all alike.
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Your dreaming self seeks to tell you something your waking ears will not hear
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