“Catelyn wanted to run to him, to kiss his sweet brow, to wrap him in her arms so tightly that he would never come to harm....”
“My mother says I m crazy, I m not crazy, I just have a different way of looking at things.”
“At a certain point in her life, she realises it is not so much that she wants to have a child as that she does not want not to have a child, or not to have had a child.”
“You just stood up to your mother.... I should think now you could take on the world.”
“Listen kid, it’s just you and me now, so let’s help each other out. Always be honest with me, and show me how to be the mother and father I never had. I’ll make a mess of things sometimes, and I’m sorry in advance, but I’ll try. My word is bond.”
“What a joke, coming from a woman who worked for the fashion industry. Really. Starving yourself to fit into a size zero — why did that size even exist? Zero referred to the absence of something, but what did it mean in terms of a model s measurements? Her fat? Or her presence? How much could you cut away before the person herself vanished? It was hypocritical, that s what it was. I said as much, adding, “If you re so keen on me being healthy then you should have no problem accepting me for the way I am. That s what s healthy, Mom. Not being focused on all this freaky weight-loss stuff.”
“As a child, my mother told me not to talk to strangers. I did my best to obey. She hadn’t realized that everyone is a stranger to the part of us that makes us who we truly are. The part of us that prays for the rest in ways we cannot comprehend. In a sense, we are our own monsters, lying in wait under our own beds--our own angels and demons. The lives we lead will judge us. This is as natural as the sun rising and setting, something that happens whether or not we’re alive.”
“I knew my mother s limitations because they formed the marrow of my bones.”
“Motherhood is precious.Value it responsibly or don t be”
“My mother has always loved piano music and hungered to play. When she was in her early sixties, she retired from her job as a computer programmer so that she could devote herself more fully to the piano. As she had done with her dog obsession, she took her piano education to an extreme. She bought not one, not two, but three pianos. One was the beautiful Steinway B, a small grand piano she purchased with a modest inheritance left by a friend of her parents’. She photocopied all of her music in a larger size so she could see it better and mounted it on manila folders. She practiced for several hours every day. When she wasn’t practicing the piano she was talking about the piano. I love pianos, too, and wrote an entire book about the life of one piano, a Steinway owned by the renowned pianist Glenn Gould. And I shared my mother’s love for her piano. During phone conversations, I listened raptly as she told me about the instrument’s cross-country adventures. Before bringing the Steinway north, my mother had mentioned that she was considering selling it. I was surprised, but instead of reminding her that, last I knew, she was setting it aside for me, I said nothing, unable to utter the simple words, “But, Mom, don’t you remember your promise?” If I did, it would be a way of asking for something, and asking my mother for something was always dangerous because of the risk of disappointment.”
“The morning was brisk and the coffee was hot and roasted with little gurgles in the room. Rosie hadn’t moved, but she let out a tiny snore every now and again that made everything perfect.”
“If, as a culture, we don’t bear witness to grief, the burden of loss is placed entirely upon the bereaved, while the rest of us avert our eyes and wait for those in mourning to stop being sad, to let go, to move on, to cheer up. And if they don’t — if they have loved too deeply, if they do wake each morning thinking, I cannot continue to live — well, then we pathologize their pain; we call their suffering a disease. We do not help them: we tell them that they need to get help.”
“Gone are the days when girls used to cook like their mothers and boys used to dress like their fathers. Now girls drink like their fathers and boys dress like their mothers.”
“Sam and Caine were left standing side by side, bruised and battered, to stare over Penny s sickening corpse, at the face of their mother.”
“Your mother holds you skin on skin and when you enter this world, feeds you with her own body; skin on skin. Your father runs his fingers over your tear stained cheek, presses his lips to your forehead; skin on skin. You make love, skin on skin with a man you love, a beautiful man. And then, if you’re lucky your own baby will enter this world and you’ll hold her skin on skin, feed her with your body skin on skin. It’s a magical thing.”
“And you, Mom. I loved you. You ve asked if i felt and understood that you loved me. of course I did. And you know this. I loved your love because it kept me safe and happy and wanted, and it existed beyond words and hugs and eyes.”
“When you create a soul, plant the seeds of love with your thoughts, words, and actions . The soul flourishes among the flow-ers of love.”