When she was little they had lived in an old farmhouse too, in the middle of nothing of but landscape.
What if we had a chance to do it again and again, until we finally did get it right? Wouldn't that be wonderful?
Twittering just seemed to be people telling other people what they were doing--getting in the shower, making coffee. Who on earth wanted to know these things?...Babble and twitter. Full of sound and f...
They said love made you strong, but in Louise's opinion it made you weak. It corkscrewed into your heart and you couldn't get it out again, not without ripping your heart to pieces.
They had triumphed over death this night. Sylvie wondered when death would seek his revenge.
The past is what you take with you.
The Grim Reaper, Gloria corrected herself - if anyone deserved capital letters it was surely Death. Gloria would rather like to be the Grim Reaper. She wouldn't necessarily be grim, she suspected she...
Teddy wandered amongst the graves. Most of the people in them had died long before his time. Ursula was picking up conkers from the stand of magnificent horse chestnuts at the far end of the churchyar...
Secrets had the power to kill a marriage,she said. Nonsense, Sylvie said,it was secrets that could save a marriage.
Sacrifice,’ he remembered Sylvie saying, is a word that makes people feel noble about slaughter. These
Perhaps sex was something you had to learn and then stick at until you were good at it, like hockey or the piano. But an initial lesson would be helpful.
O passado é aquilo que transportamos connosco
Nor, says Nora, do we want commonplace tales of hausfrau Angst, of the woman heroically making over her life with a handsome new lover, a beautiful child, a happy ending. Instead, we shall have murder...
Life wasn't about becoming, was it? It was about being.
Life is too precious to be unhappy.
Just because something bad had happened to her doesn't mean it won't happen again.
If it hadn’t been for this chance hospital encounter, accidental in all senses, Victor might never have courted a girl. He already felt well on his way to middle age, and his social life was still lim...
I always thought the girl in that picture had the look of a frog about her, Nancy said, thinking, I look enigmatic because I’m dying. Isn’t
How deceptive that could be. One could lose everything in the blink of an eye, the slip of a foot.
Home was an idea, and like Arcadia it was lost in the past. She