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Then he kissed her so deeply and so completely that she felt like she was falling, floating, spiraling down, down, down, like Alice in Wonderland.

Liane Moriarty

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Liane Moriarty
Age: 57
Born: 1966
Born: November 15
Author
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Lian Moriarty
Deeply
Kissing
Completely
Spiraling
Fall
Wonderland
Felt
Alice
Like
Kissed
Floating
Falling

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Perhaps nothing was ever “meant to be.” There was just life, and right now, and doing your best. Being a bit “bendy.
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Some secrets are meant to stay secret forever.
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Everyone wanted to be rich and beautiful, but the truly rich and beautiful had to pretend they were just the same as everyone else.
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It was like she was thinking, How far can I go with this? How much more can I fit in my life without losing control?
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Those we love don't go away, they sit beside us every day.
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Nobody ever told you that being a mother is all about making what seemed like thousands of tiny decisions.
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The medication, the hormones and the relentless frustrations of our lives make us bitchy and you're not allowed to be bitchy in public or people won't like you.
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All these years there had been a Tupperware container of bad language in her head, and now she opened it and all those crisp, crunchy words were fresh and lovely, ready to be used.
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She didn’t understand a damned thing about life except that it was arbitrary and cruel, and some people got away with murder while others made one tiny, careless mistake and paid a terrible price.
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Why did she give up wine for Lent? Polly was more sensible. She had given up strawberry jam. Cecilia had never seen Polly show more than a passing interest in strawberry jam, although now, of course, she was always catching her standing at the open fridge, staring at it longingly. The power of denial.
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So now I just assume that it won't work, and that if it does work, I'll lose it anyway. This is meant to protect me, although it doesn't, because somehow the hope sneakily finds its way in. I'm never aware of the hope until it's gone, whooshed away like a rug pulled from under my feet, each time I hear another I'm sorry.
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All conflict can be traced back to someone's feelings getting hurt, don't you think?
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Just because a marriage ended didn't mean that it hadn't been happy at times.
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There were worse things to be than sexist. For example, you could be the sort of person who pinched your fingers together while using the words “teeny weeny.
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You’ve been here before. It won’t kill you. It feels like you can’t breathe, but you actually are breathing. It feels like you’ll never stop crying, but you actually will.
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Happy endings always made her cry. It was the relief.
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They would think she was savoring the taste (blueberries, cinnamon, cream-excellent), but she was actually savoring the whole morning, trying to catch it, pin it down, keep it safe before all those precious moments became yet another memory.
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Marriage was a form of insanity love hovering permanently on the edge of aggravation.
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If parents had children who were good sleepers, they assumed this was due to their good parenting, not good luck.
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