More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
A swamp knows all about death, and doesn’t necessarily define it as tragedy, certainly not a sin.
All the same in the eyes of nature
Death’s crude pluck, as always, stealing the show.
His dad had told him many times that the definition of a real man is one who cries without shame, reads poetry with his heart, feels opera in his soul, and does what’s necessary to defend a woman.
She’d never had a friend, but she could feel the use of it, the pull.
Ma had said women need one another more than they need men,
FOR MORE THAN A WEEK there was no feather on the stump.
Ghosted #dontiknowit
That’s what sisters and girlfriends are all about. Sticking together even in the mud, ’specially in mud.”
“I wadn’t aware that words could hold so much. I didn’t know a sentence could be so full.” He smiled. “That’s a very good sentence. Not all words hold that much.”
Time ensures children never know their parents young.
“I ain’t scared of bears.” “I’m not scared of bears.”
The lagoon smelled of life and death at once, an organic jumbling of promise and decay.
Her most poignant memories were unknown dates of family members disappearing down the lane. The last of a white scarf trailing through the leaves. A pile of socks left on a floor mattress.
Why should the injured, the still bleeding, bear the onus of forgiveness?
If anyone understood loneliness, the moon would.
Some parts of us will always be what we were, what we had to be to survive—way back yonder.
Female fireflies draw in strange males with dishonest signals and eat them; mantis females devour their own mates. Female insects, Kya thought, know how to deal with their lovers.
as if to kiss a baby.
I like this comparison
Markers of death all weathered into nubbins by elements of life.
“Will you marry me, Kya?” “We are married. Like the geese,” she said. “Okay. I can live with that.”
