The Rock Orchard Quotes

“History, of course, is never real. People either glorify it or horrify it. Or at the very least color it.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“It's not how you look, it's how you feel in the dark”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“It is common knowledge that Belle women make hard men melt like butter in a pan. They are equally adept at reversing the process.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Falling autumn leaves gave the air an amber hue as though seen through a jar of honey.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“The future isn't carved in stone, only your epitaph.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Some women can touch a man and heal like Jesus. The man who sees sunrise from a Belle woman's bed will swear he's been born again.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Old woman, you don't thump the Bible at me- you beat it like a drum."
"That's because along with being hardheaded, you are apparently hard of hearing."
Charlotte pushed off her rocker so hard it slammed against the wall. Nothing irritated her more than having religion shoved down her throat. And no one carried a bigger shovel than Lettie.
"Baptists are like fleas!" Charlotte flared. "Impossible to get rid of and irritating as hell!"
"On Judgement Day," Lettie said smugly, "I have no doubt the burn will take your mind off the itch.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Some women barter their bodies like whores with wedding bands. Some use sex like a sword. But some women can touch a man and heal like Jesus.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“The only way to cull the uncommon man from the common is with his clothes off.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“There is no cure for a bleeding heart.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Do you know how they make the strongest sword? They hammer it flat then hold it to the fire.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Cakes and pies lined the parsonage countertop and the church refrigerator was stacked with casseroles.
They baked spicy apple harvest cakes and angel biscuits so light they seemed to hover above the pan. They brought him jars of homemade bread and butter pickles, plum preserves, and chow-chow. Every morning cars lined the sidewalk in front of the church, and ladies bearing gifts of honey buns and banana bread still warm from the oven filed into the church. After a particularly moving sermon on "Faith, Fishes, and Loaves," they whipped up enough salmon croquettes and tuna casseroles to feed the masses.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“A dozen or so guests gathered in the conservatory for breakfast. The sweet scent of jasmine perfumed the air and an aviary of lemon yellow canaries sang for them. They drank fresh-squeezed juice that smelled like orange blossoms and spooned perfect bites of soft-boiled eggs from fragile shells. White sunlight poured through the glass dome above their heads like an affirmation from heaven, and a constant breeze blew over them as though fanned by invisible servants.
Beyond the open doors stretched emerald lawn. Beyond the lawn, the ocean, blue as a robin's egg.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“The fact that there were more adults than children at her party didn't seem to faze Dixie.
"That child is like a dandelion," Lettie said. "She could grow through concrete."
Dixie's birthday party had a combination Mardi Gras/funeral wake feel to it. Mr. Bennett and Digger looped and twirled pink crepe paper streamers all around the white graveside tent until it looked like a candy-cane castle. Leo Stinson scrubbed one of his ponies and gave pony rides. Red McHenry, the florist's son, made a unicorn's horn out of flower foam wrapped with gold foil, and strapped it to the horse's head.
"Had no idea that horse was white," Leo said, as they stood back and admired their work.
Angela, wearing an old, satin, off-the-shoulder hoop gown she'd found in the attic, greeted each guest with strings of beads, while Dixie, wearing peach-colored fairy wings, passed out velvet jester hats.
Charlotte, who never quite grasped the concept of eating while sitting on the ground, had her driver bring a rocking chair from the front porch. Mr. Nalls set the chair beside Eli's statue where Charlotte barked orders like a general.
"Don't put the food table under the oak tree!" she commanded, waving her arm. "We'll have acorns in the potato salad!"
Lettie kept the glasses full and between KyAnn Merriweather and Dot Wyatt there was enough food to have fed Eli's entire regiment. Potato salad, coleslaw, deviled eggs, bread and butter pickles, green beans, fried corn, spiced pears, apple dumplings, and one of every animal species, pork barbecue, fried chicken, beef ribs, and cold country ham as far as the eye could see.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“You get prettier every day, don't you?" Red said, as he spun the stool.
No one called Angela's little girl by her real name. No one could spit it out. Angela had found the name in the family Bible. Apparently, it wanted to stay there.
"She's cute as a Dixie cup," Willie said from the service window.
"Are you my little Dixie cup?" Red asked, giving her nose a tap.
Clapping her hands, the child giggled and squealed.
And just like that, Aubrette Orianna Belle was christened Dixie.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Every Wednesday Angela Belle came to town. And every Wednesday Dr. Montgomery "accidentally" ran into her. That Doc sat by the diner window for thirty minutes picking at a piece of pie until she rounded the corner did not go unnoticed.
"Never seen a man so whupped," the Sheriff said, rolling a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.
"Got him by the short hairs," Willie concurred.
Naturally, every man in town thought Doc was getting some. Naturally, every woman in town knew better.
"A dog don't dance for a bone he's already chewed," Dot said, sliding Ben Harrington's plate lunch in front of him.
"Depends on the bone," the Sheriff said, as they watched Doc run across the street to catch up with Angela.
"Depends on the dog," Dot countered, giving Willie a look that made his face burn.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Boone stood in front of Doc, half naked. Soft black hair ran down his chest, disappearing below his belt. He had arms that made a woman feel light as a scarf, a stomach flat enough to iron on, and an attitude set to smolder.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Lydia had devoted herself- and her husband's money- toward making their home a "destination." She fancied herself floating through a household of the East Coast elite, dazzling them with continental cuisine, priceless art and antiques, and a perfectly stocked wine cellar. They would tour her gardens and marvel at her ability to create such a cultural oasis in the southern desert.
In reality, every evening Lydia watched her guests meander across her yard to the Belles', where they delighted in such southern delicacies as moonshine in Mason jars, bawdy conversation, and shoofly pie.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Oddly, Angela took to school like a bird to flight. She completed her homework almost before the teacher finished assigning it and read twice as many books as required. She had an understanding of history as if she'd lived it. Most surprising, she could stand in front of the classroom and read with the passion and clarity of a little southern Shakespearean thespian.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard

“Just because a woman is good at something doesn't necessarily mean it's what she should do in life. If that were the case most of the women in the Belle family would be hookers.”
― Paula Wall, The Rock Orchard