I suppose that's what happens when you make other people's lives miserable: life gets miserable back at you.
Sonya HartnettEvery atom in me feels composed of lead. This is what dying is: a pull to the ground.
Sonya HartnettI thought about how stupid it is, that all of us are born destined to desire somebody else, though desire brings with it such disappointment and pain. Humankind's history must be scored bloody with heartbreak. This hankering for affection is a blight upon us.
Sonya HartnettTags: pain history affection disappointment stupid desire heartbreak humankind destined blight
Time crawled past on leaden hands and knees.
Sonya HartnettTags: time crawled hands-and-knees leaden
My life was pouring out my feet and seeping through cracks in the floor; yet still I knelt and did not move, for fear she'd let go my hands. Let me stay, I wanted to beg: Please don't make me go.
Sonya HartnettShe doesn't understand that doors, walls, fences, ceilings - they're helpless to keep out what determinedly desires to get in.
Sonya HartnettTags: desires doors understand walls helpless fences ceilings get-in keep-out
Just a few more minutes here, I suggest: life hates to leave, worried what it might miss. But Vernon, closer, is shaking his head. This is all.
Sonya HartnettI looked along the aisle and saw her, and it was as if I saw her for the first time. Everything changed. The ancient featureless interior of me spangled orange, mint, cat-blue. I looked back to the window immediately, my face damp, my breath caught. And worried I would never have the courage to look at her again.
Sonya HartnettTags: courage featureless first-time everything-changed
We walked into the forests which encircled the town. I have never liked them, their dark throat, their sullen height, their slump-shouldered gloom. But Evangeline walked steadily into their maw, and I followed her. She wanted to see the swathes which, years ago, the firebug had burned. The furnaced forest was green again, though here and there stood leafless trunks cindered to the core; on the scruffy dirt lay stiff black limbs tangled in morning-glory. Evangeline touched her palm to the charcoal, murmured, 'Poor things.
Sonya HartnettTags: black forests dirt burned charcoal cindered firebug leafless poor-thing
We both knew that what I said was the truth, as well as being a lie. The pure and honest answer was pinging between us, hovering above the weeds.
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