Land Quotes

“This house is a thing both ancient and disjointed, and entity of addition and subtraction, a palimpsest of stone and wood and caulk and mud, Its existence here, on the the peninsula, is proof that everything was once something else: nothing goes away.”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“everything was once something else: nothing goes away.”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“The two share the same dream: a landscape weighed down from above with great billowing clouds that part and merge, letting in the light and obscuring it, over and over again.”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“This house is a thing both ancient and disjointed, an entity of addition and subtraction, a palimpsest of stone and wood and caulk and mud, Its existence here, on the the peninsula, is proof that everything was once something else: nothing goes away.”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“and”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“It never ceases to amaze me how assured you priests are of your place in the scheme of things. What you refuse to see is how recent is your hold here, that the land was inhabited long before you and your kind ever arrived, with your crosses and your prayers. You will never understand how the land remembers, how deep the roots grow, how fast the stream...”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“might”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“Her mother’s passing has left an ache in her”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“Rose has always been aware of a darkness, a roiling cloud, in her parents, a sense of rupture, a lack of rootedness. She has forever carried, like a heavy bag strapped to her back, the sense that she wasn’t able to assuage their losses: she was too small, too ignorant, to aid them, to make up for what they lacked. She didn’t know how to ask them about it, how to form those questions, where to begin, what to say. And now it was too late. They were both gone.”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“Rose has always been aware of a darkness, a roiling cloud, in her parents, a sense of rupture, a lack of rootedness. She has forever carried, like a heavy bag strapped to her back, the sense that she wasn’t able to assuage their losses: she was too small, too ignorant, to aid them, to make up for what they lacked. She didn’t know how to ask them about it, how to form those questions, where”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“Their feet press down into the thick, blackened leaf-fall. Around them, the golden air is stitched with pollen and the inexplicable flight paths of bees, and teems with the sounds of a forest: birdsong, the creak of branches, the insistent tapping of a woodpecker, the drip of moisture from foliage, the secretive rustle of unseen creatures moving about the undergrowth.”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“It could exist on the map”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“the land remembers,”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“To map is to assume power.”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“land is history”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“This ocean”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land

“Two candelabra are being placed by servants at either end of the table.”
― Maggie O'Farrell, Land