It baffled her, the world. She did not want to leave it yet.
Elizabeth StroutAwful to think she was a disapproving mother. Awful to wonder-had she always frightened Amy? Is that why the girl had grown up so fearful, always ducking her head? It was bewildering to Isablle. Bewildering that you could harm a child without even knowing, thinking all the while you were being careful, conscientious. But it was a terrible feeling. More terrible than having Avery Clark forget to come to her house. Knowing that her child had grown up frightened. Except it was cockeyed, all backwards, because, thought Isabelle, glancing back at her daughter, I've been frightened of you.
Elizabeth StroutShe understood that Simon was a disappointed man if he needed, at this age, to tell her he had pitied her for years.
Elizabeth StroutTag: life-lessons
Traits don't change, states of mind do.
Elizabeth StroutA lot of people don't have families. . . . . But they still have homes.
Elizabeth StroutHe looked at the books, and she wanted to say, 'Stop that,' as though he were reading her diary.
Elizabeth StroutI'm so interested in the fact that we really don't know anybody. We think we know the people close to us, but we don't, we really don't.
Elizabeth StroutIt was always sad, the way the world was going. And always a new age dawning.
Elizabeth StroutBut every town had been promising. Every place at first had said, Here you go- You can live here. You can rest here. You can fit. The enormous skies of the Southwest, the shadows that fell over the desert mountains, the innumerable cacti- red-tipped, or yellow-blossomed, or flat-headed- all this had lightened him when he first moved...
...But as with them all, the same hopeful differences--...-- they all became places that sooner or later, one way or another, assured him that he didn't, in fact, fit.
Bob was not a young man, and he knew about loss. He knew the quiet that arrived, the blinding force of panic, and he knew that each loss brought with it some odd, barely acknowledged sense of release. He was not an especially contemplative person, and he did not dwell on this. But by October there were many days when the swell of rightness, loose-limbedness, and gentle gravity came to him. It recalled to him being a child, when he found one day he could finally color within the lines.
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