Sally Koslow > Sally's Quotes

“If you want to tell the truth, write fiction”
― Joshua Halberstam

“ We'd like to take a look at the adoptable dogs. Please."
"... if you have any thoughts of feeding the dogs, you leave that thought with me."
"This is serious. You can't feed them... You feed them something you think is no big deal ... like a Slim Jim or a Vienna Sausage, and we're cleaning up a shitstorm at two AM."
"Shitstorm," Mark said. " Is that the clinical term, Dr. Peterman?"
" We call it a code brown at the hospital.”
― Ann Wertz Garvin, The Dog Year

“ I think people should get married at the courthouse without a single person present and no fanfare whatsoever. Then, if the couple makes it to ten years, they should have a big party. The whole shebang, white dress, flowers, cake of their dreams. After ten years they'd deserve it.”
― Ann Wertz Garvin, The Dog Year

“ ... The group is a wonderful mix of people - a microcosm, I believe, of what's really out there. Listen, Lucy, you do my job for a while and here's what you learn. No one is normal. Everybody struggles with something. Marital problems, depression, codependency, maybe a looming fascination with shoes or leather bags that keeps her working overtime shifts to pay off her debt. Whatever. Stop thinking everyone else has it together. It's not true. Precious few people have life figured out. 'Normal' just isn't normal anymore.”
― Ann Wertz Garvin, The Dog Year

“I'm getting chocolate. I need you. Come over." She hung up, hoping he would get the message. A binge was coming, get help.
Inside the store, she blew past the small plastic shopping baskets not made for heavy lifting, and wheeled the full-sized grocery cart over to the holiday aisle. One of the wheels dragged like a conscience, pulling the cart halfheartedly in the direction of the fresh produce. The other wheels squealed in protest.”
― Ann Wertz Garvin, The Dog Year

“She shoved open her car door and moved to get out. Instead she dropped her head to the steering wheel. She tried to pull the tough-girl mask over her sorrow and get on with her life. Instead she cried like adults learn to cry; silently and alone.”
― Ann Wertz Garvin, The Dog Year