Of Earthly Delights Quotes

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― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“You're acting like a child."
"Technically, I am a child." It felt to Hart like he was constantly reminding his father of this fact. As in, You can't just travel the world and leave me and Heather here--- we're minors.
Mr. Hargrove sighed, brushing past this statement, too. "I'm sorry you lost your girlfriend. But you can't blow off all your responsibilities because of that."
"Why not? You did.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“Sometimes every element would be right, and the flower just plumb refused to grow.
That wasn't ever a problem in the Wish Garden. Didn't matter if they were heat-loving or shade dwellers, tropical, hardy annuals, or perennials. Through snow or mud, you could plant anything you wanted in there, and a hundred different varieties would bloom year-round. Fireworks of chrysanthemums next to feathery breadseed poppies. Prairie smoke flowers that could've been characters in a Dr. Seuss book intertwined with ranunculus that swirled like cupcake frosting.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“Rose was like the sun, shining on him, drawing open Hart's petals. Because of Rose, he was learning to bask in his surroundings. To thrive and bloom.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“He asked himself why he wanted his mother back. And his answer was because he was lonely. Because there was now a big, gaping hole where his heart used to be. But it wasn't loneliness, not really. Now that his mom was gone, Hart realized, he was completely without love in his life. It came to him with so much clarity, what he needed to wish for. He couldn't boil it down to anything smaller. He only needed a little anyway. It would go a long way.
He put the seed in the ground, closed his tear-soaked eyes, and spoke his wish out loud. "I wish for love."
The next day, he walked into a gas station store and found his love there waiting for him.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“By the time he planted his first seed and watched it bloom into a bright white daisy, Hart began to feel what he suspected his mom felt every time she was out in the gardens. The joy sprouted on the stem, and in his soul.
While other boys were becoming interested in video games, or sports, or breaking rules, Hart got really into flowers. There were some areas in the garden where the flowers grew so high and bountiful that you could walk through them and get lost in tiny worlds. Whole colorful planets at his fingertips. To Hart, there was nothing like it. Cupping a sorbet-colored ball of dahlia in the palm of his hand, breathing in the musky-sweet notes of jasmine, watching the pollen-dressed bees buzzing in the fluff.
The flowers made something in Hart's soul stir. Or settle. Or float. He wasn't sure what, but it felt like he'd discovered a secret that no one else knew about. That all you needed to feel perfectly in balance with the world were flowers.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“The flowers grew from everywhere. The trees, bursting with bubblegum-pink blossoms. Another, with mossy clusters of magenta, down to the base of its trunk. Some flowers grew tall as cornstalks, tall as Hart, and even taller still, while others blanketed the ground like a patchwork quilt come to life. Even the hedge walls sprouted flower buds, impossibly, defiantly. Pollen-coated bumblebees buzzed between the blooms, and butterflies fluttered around Rose's ankles. The Wish Garden lay before her as a tapestry of color. And as she made her way through it, she felt like she was living through a dream come true: She was walking through a painting come to life.
Hart stopped in the middle of a patch of grass and motioned for Rose to join him on the ground. They sat cross-legged, facing each other, and it struck Rose how beautiful Hart looked, surrounded by flowers. Lily of the valley kissing his knees and poppies sidling up to his forearms. He scratched at a spot on his neck where an overgrowth of fuchsia dahlias pecked him, and Rose bit back a laugh, imagining that the flowers wanted to touch him as much as she did.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“You spend every minute with him and I haven't even met him, and now you're spending the night with him? And don't bother denying it--- you haven't made any other friends since we moved here, not counting that boy who ate all my Fig Newtons."
"Well, yeah, it's kinda hard to make friends when you're wrenched out of your high school, away from the friends you've had your whole life, and made to live in the middle of fucking nowhere!”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“I thought you were in L.A."
"And now I'm back," Mr. Hargrove said. "Only for the night, I'm afraid."
"A warning would've been nice."
Mr. Hargrove folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the back of the couch, a rueful smile twisting his lips. "A warning?" he repeated, then flashed a look at Rose that said, Can you believe this kid? "Like I'm a hurricane?"
Hart shrugged and held Rose's hand closer to him. "The wreckage is about the same.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“Hart smelled of clean sweat, sweet earth, and fresh-cut grass, and on days like this Rose was sure she could inhale him whole. There was balance to this, she thought. To her painting in the garden while he tended to it. The kind of balance you could only find in nature. Rose handed him the water bottle and watched his throat work; watched it the way a famished vampire might. She licked her lips.
"Ahh," Hart said when he came up for air. She loved that he actually said "Ahh" after taking a drink. She loved that there was a single blade of grass stuck with sweat to the base of his neck, greening him up like botanical jewelry.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“Rose stood at her easel, hands on hips and sable-hair paintbrush clamped between her teeth. She was trying for an impressionist-style landscape and the light was perfect--- bright and dappled over the verdant foliage. Greens waited on her palette--- lime, hunter, sage, laurel”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“And then there was Hart. Rose couldn't explain what she felt for him, but she knew it was like sunshine. As hot and undeniable as summer pressing into bare skin. As optimistic and uplifting as lemon-bright rays breaking through clouds. As happy as bright yellow. And like with sunshine, all Rose wanted to do was bask in it, this burst-of-light feeling.
She didn't call it love, because that word felt too big. So for now, she called it sunlight. And with Hart shining on her, Rose bloomed.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“Rose shook her head and dipped her brush into the Dusty Pink dollop on her palette, thinking it was so funny how heather the color was purple, but heather the plant was pink and yet looked remarkably like lavender, which was actually purple, and how beautiful the circle of life was. She slashed the canvas with bold pink strokes, making Heather look like a Renaissance painting of a romantic figure struck by arrows.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“There's a hedge maze here?" Rose asked.
Hart moved his shoulders in a way that didn't exactly answer her question.
"Can I see it?"
"The sun's already down,"he said. "It's not a good idea to go in there in the dark."
Rose wasn't sure why, but he'd gone from an open, blooming flower to suddenly closed off, all thorns. Here was the crack in Hart's perfect facade that Rose had been hunting for.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“How could Rose think anything else? Because as she held the rose in her hands, delicate as a beating heart, and looked up at the boy in front of her, she wondered how someone like him could possibly exist. Hart wasn't like any other boy she'd met. He wasn't like the boys out at the party, at least. He was charming and earnest and gorgeous and he had a head full of flowers.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“Roses are beautiful. Classic. Refined. But then they've got this whole other side of them that sort of counteracts all that. Like, they can grow pretty wild. They're tough and thorny. You have to be careful with them because of how fragile they can be, but you'd be surprised how much they can withstand, too."
Rose stepped out of the tunnel, no barrier between her and Hart anymore. She liked hearing him describe a rose. And as his eyes gleamed with a warm playfulness, it was easy to believe that he wasn't just talking about a flower anymore. "Sorry," he said. "Rambling about rambling roses."
Rose bit her lip to keep from smiling. Corny--- his own word. But she liked it. She cupped a pale pink bloom in her hands, her thumbs brushing its countless velvety folds, like pushing back the fur on a sheepdog's face. She tipped her nose to its center and breathed in deep. Musky. Earthy. Like a soothing dark tea.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“Roses?"
"It's corny, I know," Hart said. "But I thought maybe you'd like to see the Rose Garden."
There was a neat symmetry to this garden, with beds of roses squared off in every corner of the lawn, grouped according to color. Pastel pinks and yellows to one side and the more vibrant, deeper reds and fuchsias to another. Between each segment, taller roses draped over rounded pergolas, creating leafy tunnels. Everywhere she looked, shrubs spilled over messily, brazenly, with more roses than she'd ever seen before. Rose caressed the blooms, which seemed to reach for her touch as much as she reached for theirs. Some of the roses were delicate, with a single row of petals that came in a gradient of color, going from dusty pink at the center to neon magenta at the frilly tips. Others were so jammed with petals, the number of them seemed infinite.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“The sun had begun to wink behind the trees, but pockets of other light burst all around. Lanterns hung from tree branches; there was a firepit in the center of the lawn; and in the pond, the silky water shimmered with little full moons floating on the surface. No, not moons--- orbs. Such simple sources of light, but Rose was struck by how they looked like they'd dipped down from the sky, unwilling to miss the festivities.
It was a lush, clandestine beauty, mixed with the unsupervised cacophony of the people disrupting it. The word "decadence" came to mind. Rose loved that in the middle of it all Hart seemed oblivious to it, stuck in tour-guide mode. "This is my favorite tree on the property," he said.
Rose also loved that he had a favorite tree. Its curlicue branches plumed outward like long hair in water, and in certain spots, its leaves drooped and swept over the ground. "It's a one-hundred-year-old weeping hemlock," Hart said. "One of the oldest hemlocks this side of the Western Hemisphere, and the estate's namesake."
They walked beneath the canopy, where string lights and pearly garlands hung like so many gaudy necklaces on a dowager duchess. Rose had never paid much attention to trees, but even she couldn't deny this one's majesty.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“Far across the expanse of lawn, all Rose saw were trees, but there must've been more of the property beyond them. "Over there we've got the Apple Orchard, Berry Patch, Vegetable Garden, and Sunflower Grove." He then pointed in the opposite direction. "That way we've got the more French-style landscape, with the Reflecting Pool, the Moonlight Garden, Rose Garden, Stone Arbor, Fountain Field, and Lavender Garden. And way out there is Hemlock Pond, the Abundance Garden, the Meadow, and Statue Walk. So, yeah, getting lost is a possibility. But not the worst thing in the world in a place like this.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“She walked down the center of the lawn, to a limestone pedestal. She thought at first that it was a birdbath. But now that she was close enough to touch it, she saw that it was actually a sundial. There was an inscription along its circumference. " 'Grow old along with me,' " Rose read.
Behind her, someone finished the phrase. " 'The best is yet to be.' "
Rose turned to find Hart, and she felt suddenly shy, like he'd caught her voicing a deep desire, not mindlessly reading some words etched in stone.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“As for Rose, her relationship with the garden would go through many stages. Eventually, she'd come to spend more time there than anyone outside of the Hargroves. She'd see it as an oasis. A sanctuary. A lush, cozy bubble that insulated her from the stark realities of the rest of the world. And then she'd see it for what it really was.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights

“As for Rose, her relationship with the garden would go through many stages. Eventually, she'd come to spend more time there than anyone outside of the Hargroves. She'd see it as an oasis. A sanctuary. A kush, cozy bubble that insulated her from the stark realities of the rest of the world. And then she'd see it for what it really was.”
― Goldy Moldavsky, Of Earthly Delights