[...] You’re not afraid of monsters, are you?It depends on the monster, if it’s a real one or not and if it’s where I am.
Your body - every body is a marvel. A wonder of creation. [...] The day your first opened your eyes, Anna, God asked just one thing: that you live.
Your body - every body is a marvel. A wonder of creation. [...] The day you first opened your eyes, Anna, God asked just one thing: that you live.
When I was four I thought everything in TV was just TV, then I was five and Ma unlied about lots of it being totally real. Now I'm in Outside but it turns out lots of it isn't real at all.
What started Baby Jesus growing in Mary's tummy was an angel zoomed down, like a ghost but a really cool one with feathers. Mary was all surprised, she said, How can this be? and then, OK let it be. W...
We Irish have a gift for resignation. Or, put another way, fatalism.
They’re her book club but I don’t know why because they’re not reading books.
The world is always changing brightness and hotness and soundness, I never know how it's going to be the next minute.
The days of my vanity are over and heaven knows they weren't happy enough to regret
Swiping’s bad but if I was a swiper I’d swipe good stuff like cars and chocolates.
Perhaps there is no providence, no fate, no grand plan, she thinks now. Perhaps we dig our own traps and lie down in them.
Once I was a stupid girl; now I am an angry woman.
Not beautiful, not brilliant, no longer young.
No point my telling you he's not worth it, I suppose. . . I've seen enough men in my time. Whoever he is, he's not worth what you'll pay.
Miss N. had taught her nurses to watch carefully in order to understand what the ill required and provide it. Not medicine—that was the doctors’ domain—but the things she argued were equally crucial t...
Luckily Sumac has extra Rakhi in her pocket and hands them out to anyone who wants one, because really, who cares so long as the threads get tied.
Lots of the world seems to be a repeat.
Keep your heart infinitesimally small and sorrow will never spy it, never plunge, never flap away with your heart in her claws.
Jenny wouldn't be dead if she'd never crashed into Blanche on Kearny Street. P'tit wouldn't exist if Blanche had never met Arthur. Facts as hard as rocks, and Blanche has to pick her way among them, f...
It’s called mind over matter. If we don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. When a bit of me hurts, I always mind.