Photography is all about secrets. The secrets we all have and will never tell.
You can’t stop time. You can’t capture light. You can only turn your face up and let it rain down.
You’re right, Norah, anything can happen, anytime. But what goes wrong isn’t your fault. You can’t spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around to try and avert disaster. It won’t work. You’ll just end up missing the life you have.
You hold me at arm’s length.
All day she had been dreaming of the comet, its wild and fiery beauty, what it might mean, how her life might change.
For this is what I have learned, in my short life: do not act out of anger. Act from love or not at all.
You can’t spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around to try and avert disaster. It won’t work. You’ll just end up missing the life you have.
All that sunny afternoon, traveling north and east, Caroline believed absolutely in the future. And why not? For if the worst had already happened to them in the eyes of the world, then surely, surely, it was the worst that they left behind them now.
A moment might be a thousand different things.
He’d kept this silence because his own secrets were darker, more hidden, and because he believed that his secrets had created hers.
Each letter has a shape, she told them, one shape in the world and no other, and it is your responsibility to make it perfect.
No one could suspect the intricate mysteries of her heart.
Once, this whole world had been hidden beneath a shallow sea.
It’s good to be in love.
The thing is, I used to like that: feeling special because I knew something no one else did. It’s a kind of power, isn’t it, knowing a secret? But lately I don’t like it so much, knowing this. It’s not really mine to know, is it?
After all these years, I feel so free. Who knows where I might fly?
There was something not quite right about her eagerness, an eerie kind of voyeurism in her need for bad news.