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It seemed there was no end at all to the lies a person could tell, once she got started.

Kim Edwards

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Kim Edwards
Age: 66
Born: 1958
Born: May 4
Author
Novelist
Writer
Killeen
Texas
Ends
Persons
Person
Seemed
Lies
Started
Lying
Father
Tell

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You can't spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around to try and avert disaster. It won't work. You'll just end up missing the life you have.
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You missed a lot of heartache, sure. But David, you missed a lot of joy.
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It wasn't right. He knew that, but it was like falling: once you started you couldn't stop until something stopped you.
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Then she had been a fiancee, a young wife, and a mother, and she had discovered that these words were far too small ever to contain the experience.
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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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But she had felt since childhod that her life would n ot be ordinary. A moment would come- she would know it when she saw it- and everything would change.
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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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Once, this whole world had been hidden beneath a shallow sea.
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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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Photography is all about secrets... The secrets we all have and will never tell.
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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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His love for her was so deeply woven with resentment that he could not untangle the two.
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Twin threads ran through her: fear and excitement.
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He wished he had some kind of X-ray vision for the human heart.
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After all these years, I feel so free. Who knows where I might fly?
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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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