Berkley Street Quotes

“She doesn’t like ducks,” Shane said, nodding.  “I’ve seen a couple of dead ducks before my dad fishes them out.  He says they died naturally, but I know she killed them.  I don’t know why, though.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“The most hurtful lies are those with a bit of honesty in them.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“The fear grew with every rotation of the tires.  With every foot, every inch they drew closer to the house.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“The house and everything around it were oddly silent.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“No matter how much he ate, though, he wouldn’t get up over one hundred and forty-five pounds.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“Close to where Shane stood, a tall grandfather clock ticked away the time. And behind the tick of the second hand, Shane heard whispers. Someone whispered in the walls.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“Shane saw the grass in the yard was freshly mowed and all of the”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“I will. You are not afraid of the dead?” “Not all of the dead,” he said.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“The strange stairwell was dim, and Shane could barely see a door at the top. The sound of the violin came through it and rolled out and around him. Shane took a moment to build up his courage, and then walked up the stairs. The music increased in both tempo and volume.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“She doesn’t seem to know anything,” Carl said from behind Shane.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“Alopecia areata, he thought, running a hand over his smooth scalp. His pale skin looked sickly in the light of the fluorescent lamp above the mirror. Unexplained hair loss.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“The first thing Rick noticed was the lack of noise.
No birds sang in the trees. No squirrels ran across the yard.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“thick trees stood on either side of the wide front door.  A thick stone wall, nearly as tall as Shane’s father, protected the whole property. “What do you think, kid?” his father asked as he parked the car in the long driveway. “Is it a castle?” Shane asked. His mother let out a pleased laugh, and his father shook his head. “No, kid.  The Andersons, well, they”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street

“The music washed over Shane as he stepped into a dimly lit space.  Thick rugs covered the floor, and stacks of written music were piled around the room haphazardly.  The room, like the door, was tall and narrow.  It was also long and barren of windows.  On the wood-paneled walls, dozens of violins and their bows rested on individual shelves.”
― Ron Ripley, Berkley Street