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In every fairy tale the girl who is saved is the one who rescues herself.
This was what the end was like, quiet and aching.
“Real life is unbelievable. Souls are snatched away from us, flesh and blood turn to dust, people you love betray you, men go to war over nothing. It’s all preposterous. That’s why we have novels. To make sense of things.”
He had not lived his life, he merely existed.
Mia thought of how one person could save another’s life or ruin it without even meaning to.
Instead, she told herself that each day must be a garden in which she grew whatever was possible given the season.
Still, fishing and writing had a good deal in common. You had to wait and be prepared to catch what came your way. You had to know the difference between a shadow and the real thing.
That was how mysterious the world was; standing alone in a river could make you feel as if you were the only person on earth, and nearly come to believe it, and wish for the company of those you loved best.
She was reminded that nothing was written in stone, and that fate could change, and that not everyone who filled her pockets with river rocks drowned.
You were mine and mine alone. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.
Life can be long or short, it is impossible to know, but every once in a while an entire life is spent in one night, the night when the windows are open and you can hear the last of the crickets’ call, when there is a chill in the air and the stars are bright, when nothing else matters, when a single kiss lasts longer than a lifetime, when you do not think about the future or the past, or whether or not you are walking through a dream rather than the real world, when everything you have always wanted and everything you are fated to mourn forever are tied together with black thread and then
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Sometimes walking away is the bravest thing you can do. When you get there, you’ll know where you are.
