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I miss good old-fashioned honorable people just trying to make something of life. Simply, without hurting anyone else. I know that makes me a sap.

Paula McLain

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Paula McLain
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: October 7
Author
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Fresno
California
People
Makes
Hurting
Else
Fashioned
Without
Honorable
Trying
Miss
Something
Missing
Make
Simply
Good
Hurt
Life
Anyone
Sap

More quotes by Paula McLain

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Though I often looked for one, I finally had to admit that there could be no cure for Paris.
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Books could be an incredible adventure. I stayed under my blanket and barely moved, and no one would have guessed how my mind raced and my heart soared with stories.
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But when Bumby nursed, his fist clutching the fabric of my robe, his eyes soft and bottomless and locked on mine, as if I were the very heart of his universe, I couldn't help but melt into him.
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To marry was to say you believed in the future and in the past, too-that history and tradition and hope could stay knit together to hold you up.
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I also liked to look around at the houses surrounding the park and wonder about the people who filled them, what kinds of marriages they had and how they loved or hurt each other on any given day, and if they were happy, and whether they thought happiness was a sustainable thing.
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I knew that I could hate him all I wanted for the way he was hurting me, but I couldn’t ever stop loving him, absolutely, for what he was.
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And sometimes I think there isn’t anything to us but our mistakes.
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Why is it every other person you meet says they're an artist? A real artist doesn't need to gas on about it, he doesn't have time. He does his work and sweats it out in silence, and no one can help him at all.
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Not everyone out in a storm wants to be saved
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I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone.
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You have to digest life. You have to chew it up and love it all through.
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More and more I find myself at a loss for words and didn't want to hear other people talking either. Their conversations seemed false and empty. I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone.
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I would gladly have climbed out of my skin and into his that night, because I believed that was what love meant.
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Maybe happiness was an hourglass already running out, the grains tipping, sifting past each other. Maybe it was a state of mind.
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I'd had my share of rain. My mother's illness ... had weighed on me, but the years before had been heavy, too. I was only twenty eight.
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The way I see it, how can you really say you'll love a person longer than love lasts?
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Dogs are easy. If their tails are up and their eyes are soft, you're in.
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All that was left for me was a terrible kind of paralysis, this waiting game, this heartbreak game.
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... and yet he could also be very charming, in a bookish, infinitely apologetic way.
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I'd never met anyone so vibrant or alive. He moved like light.
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