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Kindle Notes & Highlights
‘I ask you to pass through life at my side—to be my second self, and best earthly companion.’
“You ain’t the only one with hurt, Junie. This world is full of it, and going through it thinking you’re the only one carrying something is an easy way to lose the bit of love you might have.”
The old folks back on the island used to say that’s why they were white; they lost all their color when they lost their souls. You gotta be a certain type of soulless to believe you can own somebody the way they do.”
just think you deserve more than a pretty view, Delilah June. You deserve to take all the beauty of this world and hold it in your hands. You deserve to bite it like a peach and let the juice drip ’til your fingers get sticky.”
‘Looking for comfort in the past is like looking for a needle in a haystack; you can search forever and see a whole bunch of things that almost look like that needle you’re missing, but the truth is, you’re never going to find it and you’ll drive yourself mad trying. Best to leave that old needle and get on with the needles you got.’ You understand?”
Grief will make you want to waste every breath on prayers that don’t get answered. Use that breath on the people you still got.”
“Baby, everything in this life ends, most times in a bad way. We got as much say in that as we got in the color of the sky.
She told me that when you first lose somebody, the grief feels like the strongest tea you’ve ever tasted, so bitter and sharp you don’t think you’ll ever be able to swallow. But that every day, another drop of water falls into that cup, and it gets a little easier to taste. That bitterness, that pain, it don’t ever go away or get smaller. But it does fade.”
The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow. And the storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below; But nothing drear can move me; I will not, cannot go. —Emily Brontë
“Yes. Of course I do. You’re my middle C.” “Middle C?” “The key between the lows and the highs, the balance of it all, the true center of the music. But it don’t matter, that’s the thing.”
