I’d have given any- thing to know how Mom and Dad were, but you can’t ask your parents such questions. You have to wait for them to tell you what it is that will happen next...
Beth KephartStichwörter: parents-and-children
Beauty is the worst kind of lie.
Beth KephartStichwörter: beauty
How do you know when an apology is true—when it means something, or can change something, or will last outside the moment?
Beth KephartStichwörter: apologies
I’d thought he was stars and then I’d thought he was a fox. I had thought I’d been alone, but I hadn’t.
Beth KephartStichwörter: being-alone
When I was a boy, that was all I wanted—to grow a pair of wings and get up into the sky. I had a basement full of failed wing projects. Boards and capes and motors, even a pile of found feathers I once tried to glue together with a bottle of Elmer’s; you should have seen your grandmother’s face. But I never got any higher than the backyard fence I’d launch from. I never got inside a cloud. Your raven did.
Beth KephartHis client needs him, he says. Needs him? But isn’t he needed at home?
Beth KephartNature is not the number-one mystery, I’ve learned. It’s the heart that takes top honors.
Beth KephartImagine music gushing down the hollow places in your bones, and making you liquid, and giving you speed. Imagine music turning your body into a song.
Beth KephartStichwörter: music
The night before, I'd gone overboard with my Lila poems, and maybe it's true that I was hoping that in them he'd see the genius of me, the beauty of my words in his hands.
Beth KephartStichwörter: talent words beauty unrequited-love
You aren't happy," Estela says.
"I can't be happy," I say.
"Look at me, Kenzie."
"I'm looking at you, Estela."
"Do you know your own heart?"
"I don't know anything."
"Go," she says, "and think. And don't come back until you know.
Stichwörter: truth heart spain real genuineness discovering
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