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Kindle Notes & Highlights
He knew what it was to have orphan status thrust upon you. Like someone had pushed you through a door, locked it, and left you in a new land with no map. All comforts were gone, unreachable. It seemed, at times, you had to relearn how to speak again. When you were grieving and in despair, basic things were different, like actually responding to yes and no questions. How to eat. How to sleep. How to smile.
The world looks and feels different when you a lose a parent, no matter your age.
That part of her life was over, but she would never be able to wash away her memories of this place.
Trauma never leaves, it buries itself in us and we forever relive it torments.
She was a woman, after all. It was their lot in life, wasn’t it? Never to own yourself completely.
That is a sentiment I have read in other books and stories. It unfortunately rings of truth.
There were only so many pieces of your heart that could be damaged before it irrevocably changed you.
This was not the behavior of a girl who was angry about being cheated on. It was the face of a girl who’d been left behind.
“It’s Ovid. The most acceptable gifts . . . are the ones made precious by our love of the giver.”
They sat as children ought, seen and not heard, while the adults continued their conversation in choppy English, Italian, and Latin.
Very different culture today, not necessarily always for the betterment of everyone.
