The Whiskey Sea Quotes

“Silver liked people to a point; he liked to hear them tell of some important news or share a laugh, but then solitude was always calling him back. Too much contact with people took things away from him—his energy, his soul, his freedom.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“she had wanted love. She had thought love would save her. She had hoped she would be worthy. She had dreamed of redemption. And for a time she believed she had found it all.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“Loving him was perhaps like peering into the rain—a sort of sightlessness, akin to stumbling about in a storm, grabbing the things you want to find, and letting the others wash away.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“Could such happiness come out of the unexpected? Or was unexpected happiness the best happiness of all?”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“You hungry?” asked Silver, who was thus nicknamed because his hair had turned old when he was but twenty-five.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“The sea was a landscape of longing, she thought, a landscape of ceaseless change.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“She also knew that the story you made up in your mind was rarely the real story.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“I don’t envy him. I think he’s made too much money. The more material things you have, the more you have to lose.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“And then there was the hidden hope she told no one about, not even Bea—that maybe someday there would be a man who understood her, who allowed her to be untamed, who understood her love of the sea, and who might love her despite her freewheeling ways. Someday, some way . . . Torn by conflicted inner sides of herself—one that felt she could never settle down and become a man’s wife, and one that secretly dreamed of romance. But who would want a woman who wanted to work like a man, who probably could never hold her tongue, and who couldn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t?”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“A meaningless life. More than anything, she had wanted to be useful. She had wanted to better herself and those around her. She had wanted to live as one with the sea in her soul. And she had wanted love. She had thought love would save her. She had hoped she would be worthy. She had dreamed of redemption. And for a time she believed she had found it all.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“darkness, salt on her lips, big boats lingering on the horizon, crates of liquor luring them out, rolls of bills in her hands, lawmen on the take, and funerals. Desire and kisses. New York City on the arm of a man. A nice dress. Racing over the ocean. Whiskey bottles. Fear and exultation. How had it come to this? And where”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“Della never set foot more than a few paces off the waterfront. A sweet little thing with brassy hair and misty green eyes, she made a living off being shapely and willing, with no other means to support herself. As the town whore, she lived above one of the ramshackle dockside establishments and catered to men coming in off a fishing boat, reeking of the”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“No hocus-pocus here. Just lots of living; it lends you some wisdom. Which I’m guessing is a trade-off for lost youth.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea

“Flashes of memories: skimming over the water into darkness, salt on her lips, big boats lingering on the horizon, crates of liquor luring them out, rolls of bills in her hands, lawmen on the take, and funerals. Desire and kisses. New York City on the arm of a man. A nice dress. Racing over the ocean. Whiskey bottles. Fear and exultation. How”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Whiskey Sea