Archive for the ‘book quotes’ Category


Sometimes, you read a wonderful book and regardless of how great a review you write about it, you cannot really tell anyone how worthy the  book is. That happens to me often. You? Has that happened to you?

Here are some excerpts of a book I read recently. Maybe they can give you an idea of how good this one is.

“And he was tired. In the end, that’s what everything came down to, the reason for every problem that tangled his life — the simple weariness of trying to fix things that were broken.”

“Barney Moore called out for the God of Blessing, and the God of Cruelty answered.”

“(She put something in me, he thought, and then he thought, No, she took something out)”

“…people don’t weep because they’re weak, but because they’ve been strong for too long.”

“Only its eyes remained steady and unchanged–deep pools of blue that penetrated Reggie’s heart into even his darkest places and yet loved him still.”

“They came, if for no other reason than to remind themselves that they had stood up when they wanted to like down and believed when all that was scattered before them called for doubt. They came to sing and dance and break bread not in spite of their bent hearts.”

“Sometimes you think a story’s ended, but really it hasn’t, and all you have to do is turn the page.”

From When Mockingbirds Sing by Billy Coffey.



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Friday 56
*Grab a book, any book.
*Turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader
(If you have to improvise, that’s ok.)
*Find any sentence, (or few, just don’t spoil it)
*Post it.
*Add your (url) post in Linky here. Add the post url, not your blog url.
*It’s that simple.

No art work for this book today but I hope you like the quote from Arturo Islas: The Uncollected Works Edited by Frederick Luis Aldama. Arturo Islas was my favorite professor in college and a lot of my love of writing and even my writing voice I owe to him so I hope you enjoy this.

“In the first weeks of that first year you were gone, I awakened to unbearable feelings of loss, self-recrimination, emptiness, nothingness. There was no sense of time moving in that house where you and I had lived together for three years. In the darkness and intolerable silence of that empty space (empty? I was there, wasn’t I? I didn’t think so, I felt annihilated) I was even afraid of the light slowly creeping into my bedroom.”

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Snow Angels

I know this is a sore subject for all those in snowed under/in conditions but I came across a passage in a book I am reading that I had to share.

The book is Unforgettable:Short Stories by Paulette Alden. In the one story, Miriam’s (the main character) father dies. She thinks she has processed it only to find herself in tears every few weeks when it hits her that he is gone. Then one day in the coldest of winter (it takes place in Minnesota) she is swimming at an indoor pool. Here’s the passage that called out to me:

“And now she’s aware of a presence. She understands that she is being watched over, guarded. Or maybe it’s only the snow. It has the feel of snow–beautiful, silvery, silent, filling the air. This is what angels are like, she thinks. And this is what snow is like. How it falls and falls, how it blesses us.

You’re gone. I’ll never see you again.

But this time she doesn’t cry.”

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“Since his stroke he’s been living in the present.  He has no past and no future.  He lives in a present that lasts six minutes, and every six minutes the meter of his memory resets itself to zero.  Every six minutes he asks me my name.  Every six minutes he asks what day it is.  Every six minutes he asks if Maman is coming to see him.” –from The List Of My Desires by Grégoire Delacourt

I often think about getting so old that I have no memory.  If I have no memory, I will cease to exist because we are our memories.  And honestly speaking, who would want to go on living past the point where their memory was gone?

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