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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.
Kim Edwards
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Kim Edwards
Age: 66
Born: 1958
Born: May 4
Author
Novelist
Writer
Killeen
Texas
Believed
Kept
Created
Silence
Secret
Darker
Secrets
Hidden
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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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You missed a lot of heartache, sure. But David, you missed a lot of joy.
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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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She had died at age twelve, and by now she was nothing but the memory of love-- nothing, now, but bones.
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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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He had never even glimpsed her.
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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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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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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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That there were other worlds, invisible, unknown, beyond imagination even, was a revelation to him.
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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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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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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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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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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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After all these years, I feel so free. Who knows where I might fly?
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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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I love to swim, and I love being near water.
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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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