If one has a good reputation and trusted, the rules can be bent to accommodate.
Anita ShreveWebster, as if he's done it every day of his life, as if he did it just the day before, trails his fingers from the small of Sheila's back to the nape of her neck.
Sheila turns her head, "Go slowly and be careful," she says.
Voltage crossed the distance between Sheila and Webster. A current composed of anger and remorse and something else-the last flicker of attraction
Anita ShreveSometimes I think that if it were possible to tell a story often enough to make the hurt ease up, to make the words slide down my arms and away from me like water, I would tell that story a thousand times.
Anita ShreveMots clés personal
It was probably not so unusual to be a different person with a different man, for all parts were authentically within, waiting to be coaxed out by one person or another
Anita ShreveMots clés love relationships individuals
That I have no right to be jealous is irrelevant. It is a human passion: the sick, white underbelly of love.
Anita ShreveMots clés love jealousy relationships
Altogether, Olympia thinks the sight of herself satisfactory, but not beautiful: a smile is missing, a certain light about the eyes. For how very different a woman will look when she has happiness, Olympia knows, when her beauty emanates from a sense of well-being or from knowing herself to be greatly loved. Even a plain woman will attract the eye if she is happy, while the most elaborately coiffed and bejeweled woman in a room, if she cannot summon contentment, will seem to be merely decorative.
Anita ShreveOnce you tell your first lie, the first time you lie for him, you are in it with him, and then you are lost.
Anita ShreveMy mother taught me to knit when I was seven. I forgot about knitting until one day I saw Marion at the counter with hers and confessed that I knew how. Confessed is the right word. In those days, in the early 1980s, knitting was not a hobby a preteen would readily admit to. But Marion, every enthusiastic, pounced upon me and insisted that I show her something I'd made. I did -- a misshapen scarf -- which she priased exravagantly. she lent me a raspberry-colored wool for another project, a hat for myself. Since then I've been knitting pretty continuously. It's addictive and it's soothing, and fora a few minutes anyway, it makes me feel closer to my mother.
Anita ShreveMots clés knitting 1980-s early-knitting-projects memories-of-mother
I wanted to lay down my cloak so that her feet might not be sullied by the dirty snow, but of course I could not - not only for the seeming excess of the gesture, which might have frightened away any sane woman, but also for a D shear impracticality of doing so at continuous intervals.
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