Please let him look. I didn’t need to hide from someone courting oblivion as ardently as I am.
It sounded artificial, like a beauty contestant pledging world peace.
And I didn’t realize. I didn’t take into account. Just. You know, this is real to you. I mean, I know that, we know that, but we don’t at the same time. We really just never will. I don’t think. Totally get that. You spend so much time discussing and debating it becomes... But. Well. I’m sorry.
I could feel my limbs disconnecting, floating nearby like driftwood on an oily lake.
That’s what I did, though – I had angry, defensive conversations in my head, got mad at things that hadn’t even happened yet. Yet.
Bear gifts if you can’t bear anything else.
Lyle Wirth looked like a serial killer. Which meant he probably wasn’t one. If you were chopping up hookers or eating runaways, you’d try to look normal.
Get all that bad stuff out, sweetheart. Don’t stop till it’s all out.
I finally understood – nearly twenty years too late.
Every tragedy that happens in the world happens to my mother, and this more than anything about her turns my stomach. She worries over people she’s never met who have a spell of bad chance. She cries over news from across the globe. It’s all too much for her, the cruelty of human beings.
Because everyone loves the Dead Girl.
Those words had been the bane of my childhood, a constant reminder that nothing turned out right, not just for me but for anyone, and that’s why someone had invented a saying like that. So we’d all know that we’d never have what we needed.
TV goes to a commercial for air freshener. A woman is spraying air freshener so her family will be happy.
I know the wisdom, that no parents should see their child die, that such an event is like nature spun backward. But it’s the only way to truly keep your child. Kids grow up, they forge more potent allegiances. They find a spouse or a lover. They will not be buried with you. The Keenes, however, will remain the purest form of family. Underground.
I could feel the night hanging on me like a soft, damp bedgown.
Can you imagine, finally showing your true self to your spouse, your soul mate, and having him not like you?
If I say I don’t want to read the book, I don’t want to read the book.
Frank Curry thinks I’m a soft touch. Might be because I’m a woman. Might be because I’m a soft touch.
My brother slaughtered my family when I was seven. My mom, two sisters, gone: bang bang, chop chop, choke choke.
Women have spent so many years girl-powering ourselves... we’ve left no room to acknowledge our dark side. Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.