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You missed a lot of heartache, sure. But David, you missed a lot of joy.

Kim Edwards

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Kim Edwards
Age: 66
Born: 1958
Born: May 4
Author
Novelist
Writer
Killeen
Texas
Father
Heartache
David
Missed
Joy
Sure

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He'd kept this silence because his own secrets were darker, more hidden, and because he believed that his secrets had created hers.
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His love for her was so deeply woven with resentment that he could not untangle the two.
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Each letter has a shape, she told them, one shape in the world and no other, and it is your responsibility to make it perfect.
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That there were other worlds, invisible, unknown, beyond imagination even, was a revelation to him.
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The thing is, I used to like that: feeling special because I knew something no one else did. It's a kind of power, isn't it, knowing a secret? But lately I don't like it so much, knowing this. It's not really mine to know, is it?
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Your understanding of a place changes the longer you stay you discover more, and your own life gets woven into the fabric of the community.
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Writing is always a process of discovery—I never know the end, or even the events on the next page, until they happen. There’s a constant interplay between the imagining and shaping of the story.
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Once, this whole world had been hidden beneath a shallow sea.
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A moment was not a single moment at all, but rather an infinite number of different moments, depending on who was seeing things and how.
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In some deep place in her heart, Caroline had kept alive the silly romantic notion that somehow David Henry had once known her as no one else ever could. But it was not true. He had never even glimpsed her.
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Its impossible to control the reception of your work - the only thing you can control is the experience of writing itself, and the work you create.
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It's good to be in love.
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The city of Pittsburgh gleaming suddenly before her . . . so startling in its vastness and its beauty that she had gasped and slowed, afraid of losing control of the car
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She saw herself moving through another life, an exotic, difficult, satisfying life.
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Norah watched him, serious and utterly absorbed in his task, overcome by the simple fact of his existence.
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...bleak territory of the heart.
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Lately, the world felt fragile, like a blown egg, as if it might shatter beneath a careless touch.
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All that sunny afternoon, traveling north and east, Caroline believed absolutely in the future. And why not? For if the worst had already happened to them in the eyes of the world, then surely, surely, it was the worst that they left behind them now.
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He could hardly imagine anymore what his life would be without the weight of his hidden knowledge. He'd come to think of it as a kind of penance. It was self-destructive, he could see that, but that was the way things were. People smoked, they jumped out of airplanes, they drank too much and got into their cars and drove without seat belts.
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Away from the bright motion of the party, she carried her sadness like a dark stone clenched in her palm.
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