She was disappearing a little more each day, so thin, so frail, a wisp of smoke. One day she would surely vanish altogether, and there was no way to stop her.
Feel lucky for what you have when you have it. Isn’t that the point? Happily ever after doesn’t mean happy forever. The ever after, what precisely was that? Your dreams, your life, your death, your everything. Was it the blank space that went on without us? The forever after we were gone?
I’m much faster now. When you only have a certain amount of time to write, after a while you learn to use your time well or you stop writing.
I don’t really read as much as I used to. A lot of what I was looking for as an escape I find in writing. And the other thing is that I don’t want to get into someone else’s language when I’m working.
I think love is a huge factor in fiction and in real life. Is there a risk? Always. In fiction and in life.
I wonder how a lioness will manage in a dovecote. Can you put away your teeth and claws?
Hawthorne has given us a tradition that some people refer to as Yankee Magic Realism, and I do think there is a certain quality to the landscape that definitely leads into the dark woods.
I also like the whole idea of fairy tales and folk tales being a woman’s domain, considered a lesser domain at the time they were told.
I don’t think I make much of a distinction between the ‘real’ and the ‘fantastic.’ They both seem to be threads in the same cloth as far as I’m concerned.
It was a great escape for me and it was a way to take a break from what was going on in my own world, to go into another world.
Hearts were made for being broken. There’s really no way around it if you want to be a human being.
You have to choose the voice you are going to trust. You can’t listen to everyone.
That was the way love was, invisible, there whether or not you wanted to see it or admit to it.
Cleaning up after themselves was a low priority for Margo and my mother. They had both recovered from cancer scares, failed marriages, and lost hope; in their opinion, dirt could wait.
I thought of the bowl of water my mother taught me to look into. It was true, everything a person ever needed to know was right there in a single bowl small enough to fit in the palm of one hand.
Sometimes movies really are the best medicine.
Feel lucky for what you have when you have it. Isn’t that the point? Happily ever after doesn’t mean happy forever.
You build your world around someone, and then what happens when he disappears? Where do you go-into pieces, into atoms, into the arms of another man? You go shopping, you cook dinner, you work odd hours, you make love to someone else on June nights. But you’re not really there.
My mother’s blood that would last forever after. The blood of my brother, my grandfather, my father.
No barrier was strong enough to keep out the movement of time.