Quote

I look after those who look after me. He smacks his lips, stares at me, and adds, I also look after those who don't. - Sara Gruen (Water for Elephants)

Sara Gruen

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Sara Gruen
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Vancouver
British Columbia
Also
Stares
Look
Smack
Looks
Adds
Elephants
Staring
Add
Lips
Smacks
Water
Sara

More quotes by Sara Gruen

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You do right by me, I'll show you a life most suckers can't even dream of.
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When two people are meant to be together, they will be together. It's fate.
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Why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?
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I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I want.
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Sometimes I think if I had to choose between an ear of corn or making love to a woman, I'd choose the corn.
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Keeping up the appearance of having all your marbles is hard work, but important.
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Being the survivor stinks.
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The only thing that makes me crazier than writing is not writing.
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...if you expect people to try to do things your way, you're going to have to give some hints as to what that way is.
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You work hard on a book and throw it out there and then it's beyond your control.
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I just can't. I'm married. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.
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How is it that everyone on this train has so much alcohol? We always head to Canada at the beginning of the season, she says taking her seat again. Their laws are much more civilized. Cheers.
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I have to convince myself that this is not a pointless life, even the body is telling me so.
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He stares at me, and then leans back in his chair. He's ill, Jacob. I say nothing. He's a paragon schnitzophonic. He's what?! Paragon schnitzophonic, repeats Uncle Al. You mean paranoid schizophrenic? Sure. Whatever. But the bottom line is he's mad as a hatter.
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Dear God. Not only am I unemployed and homeless, but I also have a pregnant woman, bereaved dog, elephant, and eleven horses to take care of.
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I am further back, surrounded on all sides by wailing men, their faces shiny with tears. Uncle Al promised three dollars and a bottle of Canadian whiskey to the man who puts on the best show. You've never seen such grief-- even the dogs were howling.
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Then I lie down on the horse blanket and drift into a dream about Marlena that will probably cost me my soul.
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I roll onto my side and stare out the venetian blinds at the blue sky beyond. After a few minutes I'm lulled into a sort of peace. The sky, the sky--same as it always was.
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I don't like outlining, because books are organic things. Sometimes a book doesn't want to be written in a certain way.
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I scan the room. Catherine is writing quickly, her light brown hair falling over her face. She is left-handed, and because she writes in pencil her left arm is silver from wrist to elbow.
Sara Gruen