North Haven Quotes

“Life was too short for bad books, or even good books that you just don’t like.”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“Some choices are awful even when they're the right ones.”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“How does one even do this with a child?”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“This summer there was a different flavor to her. Libby noticed it right away. Like a song she couldn’t place. There was something slippery and new about her sister.”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“He would rather burn in the hearth of her rage than drown in the emptiness of life without her.”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“that you just don’t like.”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“Humans think they’re in charge, in control, but really the ocean lets them play. “Poison me all you want. My vastness is beyond your stupid comprehension. I am a universe. I will keep your islands of garbage only to deposit them back on your little shores. The land is just a third of this surface. I am in all dimensions. And”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“I love you the way you love summer vacation,” she had said.”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“Danny sidled passed the cabin roof to the bow.”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“Yeah, well, it’s easy to stay married if you don’t care how you make the other person feel. Lies are a hell of a lot easier than the truth.” She”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“To be mother and wife. To be tool and toy, to be bountiful and beautiful, to be expansive and inclusive. To cover the world and then to taste only a fraction of it. She is sweating again. She wets her hand and”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven

“The four of them stand in the cockpit of the Misdemeanor as they motor from one town to another. They pass their house, which is not theirs any longer. Libby cuts the throttle, and they stall there in front of their sprawling memory. The four of them have come up for the closing; since all of them are owners, they all must be present to sign away this place. They have given most of the land to the Maine Preservation Society, and the house, they have sold to a family who promises not to tear the whole thing down, though they know that is a lie. The oak is yellow and peeks from behind the house. The glossy white windows of the great room look down upon them. It is cold and they all wear their foul-weather gear, bright-yellow slickers, except Gwen, in a red poncho to accommodate the swell of her belly. Libby keeps one hand on the tiller and the other she slips into Tom’s hand. He gives it a squeeze and then puts his arm around her. Danny moves from the stern to stand between Tom and Gwen. They all stand on the starboard side looking at the house. Libby and Tom, then Danny, his hand resting on his brother’s shoulder, and Gwen next to him, her arms crossed over her protruding belly, her hair long and dark hanging down her back. She is no longer a beacon, but a buoy in her poncho, red right returning. The sky is gray and low and promises a choppy ferry ride to the mainland, but there in the safe haven of the harbor it is calm and windless, and the house isn’t empty, but expectant. The flat water, dark green now, lies empty, the float pulled out the month before. Going from town dock to town dock, there is no need for a tender. There is no way for them to come ashore, even if they wanted to. A house like this is not supposed to exist now. It comes from another era. It is a ghost, like the schooners that sail through the thoroughfare every summer. It is an aberration, a figment. It is their great shingled memory.”
― Sarah Moriarty, North Haven