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... for home is a magnet that lures back even its most abstracted children.

Kate Morton

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Kate Morton
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: July 19
Author
Novelist
Writer
Berri
South Australia
Australia
Abstracted
Lures
Lure
Magnet
Home
Back
Children
Even

More quotes by Kate Morton

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Ah, well. Life's too short for moderation, wouldn't you say?
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I simply love writing good stories, that's my passion.
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In real life turning points are sneaky. They pass by unlabeled and unheeded. Opportunities are missed, catastrophes unwittingly celebrated. Turning points are only uncovered later, by historians who seek to bring order to a lifetime of tangled moments.
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She either confused me with a much older child or else she glimpsed deep inside my soul and perceived a hole that needed filling. I've always chosen to believe the latter. After all, it's the librarian's one sworn purpose to bring books together with their one true reader.
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Reluctance to begin is quick to befriend procrastination. . . .
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She did as she felt, and she felt a great deal.
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Quite simply the book and I were meant to be together.
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While I wasn't certain how I felt about spiritualists, I was certain enough about the type of people who were drawn to them. Only people unhappy in the present seek to know the future.
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A twinge at the edge of her lips and she continued, the soft, slow lilt of recitation: Ancient walls that sing the distant hours.
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Hope's one thing, expectation's quite another.
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A true friend is a light in the dark. Viven
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The certainty that she would find what it was she sought just slipped away, until one night she knew there was nothing, no one waiting for her. That no matter how far she walked, how carefully she searched, how much she wanted to find the person she was looking for, she was alone - The Forgotten Garden
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Those who live in memories are never really dead. The House At Riverton
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And then he was kissing her, and she was struck by his nearness, his solidity, his smell. It was of the garden and the earth and the sun. When Cassandra opened her eyes, she realized she was crying. She wasn't sad, though, these were the tears of being found, of having come home after a long time away.
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Photographs force us to see people before their future weighed them down, before they knew their endings.
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It is a cruel, ironical art, photography. The dragging of captured moments into the future moments that should have been allowed to be evaporate into the past should exist only in memories, glimpsed through the fog of events that came after. Photographs force us to see people before their future weighed them down.
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After all, it's the librarian's sworn purpose to bring books together with their one true reader.
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Nell was not one for friends and had never hidden her distaste for most other humans, their neurotic compulsion for the acquisition of allies.
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Gerry?' Laurel had to strain to hear thought the noise on the other end of the line. 'Gerry? Where are you?' 'London. A phone booth on Fleet Street.' 'The city still has working phone booths?' 'It would appear so. Unless this is the Tardis, in which case I'm in serious trouble.
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She hadn't wanted to be loved carefully, only well.
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