Quote

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.

Paula McLain

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Paula McLain
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: October 7
Author
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Fresno
California
Stories
Guessed
Book
Blanket
Heart
Barely
Mind
Stayed
Would
Incredible
Adventure
Moved
Soared
Books
Raced

More quotes by Paula McLain

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There was only today to throw yourself into without thinking about tomorrow, let alone forever. To keep you from thinking, there was liquor, an ocean's worth at least, all the usual vices and plenty of rope to hang yourself with. Love is a beautiful liar.
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Nothing hurts if you don't let it.
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And sometimes I think there isn’t anything to us but our mistakes.
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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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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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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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All that was left for me was a terrible kind of paralysis, this waiting game, this heartbreak game.
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I'd never met anyone so vibrant or alive. He moved like light.
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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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Though I often looked for one, I finally had to admit that there could be no cure for Paris.
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Happiness is so awfully complicated, but freedom isn't. You're either tied down or you're not.
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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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The way I see it, how can you really say you'll love a person longer than love lasts?
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But love is love. It makes you do terribly stupid things.
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Dogs are easy. If their tails are up and their eyes are soft, you're in.
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It was our favorite part of the day, this in-between time, and it always seemed to last longer than it should--a magic and lavender space unpinned from the hours around it, between worlds.
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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 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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... and yet he could also be very charming, in a bookish, infinitely apologetic way.
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