Perennials Quotes

“People don’t always say they’re sorry, Lovey. You have to find a way to move on without it.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“I love you because you have made me laugh every day...I love you because you let me be me, and you have from the start. I love you for saying 'please' and 'thank you' and for kissing me good morning and good night. I love you for treating each day together as if it were a gift, not a curse...I love you for building me up and for never tearing me down. for seeing my flaws and forgiving them all. For finding the good in me, especially when I struggle to see it in myself. And for showing...how a woman should be treated, with dignity and kindness and equal respect...I love you for knowing when to take a stand and when to take a knee. And for always holding the door for me. Always...”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Only those who love you most can hear you when you're quiet.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Every one of us is a messy combination of all that has happened in our lives, all the hurts and heartaches, mishaps and mistakes. But there's one big difference. Some of us choose to love in spite of it all. And some of us don't.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“What if I had made different choices from the start? What if I had stuck around to watch another year of seasons spin here in Oxford, staying to see the daffodils bloom or to wander beneath the privet tunnel hand in hand with Fisher? What if we had kept right on kissing until the naked ladies emerged near the Osage orange? What if I had lingered long enough to see cape jasmine arrive, her voluptuous white bundles an aromatic call for summer love? Or even longer, when the spider lilies burst open in the fall and the yellow autumn light fell low among missy roots? What if I had stayed through winter, forming snow angels with my lover beneath the icy cedar boughs? What if I had not let fear defeat me after Fisher knelt before me in my mother's backyard garden, ring in his hand and happy-ever-after in his heart?”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“The flickering flames serve a fair match for the sun as the golden globe dips low behind Dove Mountain.
In response the earth sings out in passionate notes, morphing from a timid silence into an aria of melon, tangerine, and pomegranate. Foraging bats add their faint, rhythmic clicks, and my heart hums in response.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Liars only have as much power as you give them. Claim your own truth.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Falsehood flies, and the Truth comes limping after it.” —JOHNATHAN SWIFT, THE EXAMINER, 1710”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“The trust of the innocent is the Liar's MOST useful tool. -Stephen King”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Perhaps this is the moment for which you have been created.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“I don’t mean to say it’s all okay. But in that moment, I stopped trying to make sense of such things. I stopped fighting the loss, demanding explanations. When I did that, when I surrendered, I felt the anger and fear leave me. Just like that.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“You can’t give anybody so much of yourself that if he runs off with it, there’s nothing left of you. Protect your spirit, girls. It’s the only one you’ve got.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“We don’t always see the miracles taking place around us, within us. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t happening.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Not all elderly are equipped to be elders. Some have never managed to mature, despite their age.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Some things need to be kept at a distance, or else they destroy every good thing within their reach.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Find positive people and think positive thoughts. Then you will do positive things.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“I've stayed here in Oxford as the seasons have changed, watching summer turn to autumn turn to winter turn to spring. And in the coming cycle, I will be here once more. Season after season, year after year, as crocuses make way for summer honeysuckle, as sun-loving lantana ease out for the quieter mums, as pansies blanket the wintry town and as spring beauties burst forth again behind the snow. I'll still be here with Fisher by my side. Because this spring the stars aligned, as Marian promised they would. I picked a mid-March spray of spirea, made myself a bridal bouquet, and gave my whole heart to the man whose heart was given whole to me.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“I used to think the garden of Eden story was all about Eve breaking the rules and eating the forbidden fruit. Church lessons taught us that her selfishness and deception resulted in great suffering for every generation to follow.
That's the guilt we have been taught to carry as women. The serpent tricks us, and it's all our fault. Others are harmed by our naive choice, and it's all our fault. Our children stray from the right path, and it's all our fault.
Truth is, the dangers were here from the start. But so was the beauty.
Now I realize the story is not about punishing all of humankind for Eve's mistake. It's about relationship. It's about gratitude and honesty and choosing the right person to be by your side in life. It's about trust and partnership and loyalty. It's about love.
Now, as the garden comes to life around me, I no longer think of serpents and betrayals and lies and shame. Instead, I see what God sees. I see that it is good. All of it. Good.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Reed is nothing like these men. Never was. Instead, he is a master of disguise. A man so broken, his form shifts completely based on the angle of the light that meets him. He's like the cleome that bloom here in Mother's garden, changing from dark pink at night to pale come morning, then to white again before the bloom falls. Or the heirloom petunias. Or the Confederate rose. Never know what we might find when we visit them. Fickle flowers, they behave as if they've forgotten who they really are, always hiding, fooling us by showing only what they want us to see.
I now understand there have always been men like Reed in the world. A Judas. A wounded soul who causes tremendous harm for his own gain.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Next, I add a layer of Queen Anne's lace, its white clusters representative of the bridal veil worn by Mother and Bitsy, never by me. I can hear Mother's voice, teaching me that the flower is considered a weed by many, but she added it to her wildflower garden intentionally. She claims it has "a rebel heart, its snowflake appearance proof it was never meant to be a summer bloom at all." With its dark-purple center, this renegade flower represents all things feminine: delicate lace, the symbolic purity of snow, the red stain of suffering, and the long, deep taproot that keeps her growing against all odds.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“The preacher talked about the story of Adam and Eve, how we are told that God pulled the rib from Adam's side because it shows that woman and man are made to be equal partners."
"He said Eve wasn't formed from Adam's feet to be below him or from his head to be above him, but from his rib, to walk beside him." Mother says this while smiling. "I liked that."
"Yep." Chief nods. "And that the rib came from near his heart, so she would be loved by him, and from beneath his arms, so she would be protected by him.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“I read a quote from Absalom, Absalom! It's a reference to some of the plants that have already lost their blooms: "...and you said North Mississippi is a little harder country than Louisiana, with dogwood and violets and the early scentless flowers, but the earth and the nights still a little cold and the hard, tight sticky buds... on Judas trees and beech and maple...you find that you have been wanting that pretty hard for some time..."
In his story Faulkner may have been suggesting a lustful want for the maiden Judith Sutpen, but I take it another direction. As hard as Mississippi can be, I realize now I have indeed been wanting that pretty hard for some time.
If only I had known to avoid the wisteria. Instead, I said no when I should have said yes; said yes when I should have said no---and that mistake has nearly choked the life from me.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“dough burgers are still a lunchtime favorite, skillet fried and sold on the cheap at a colorful cash counter. With flour mixed into the meat, the pancake-thin patties are savored for their crunchy exterior, a recipe born to stretch a poor man's dollar and one that lands the diner on Best Burger lists still today.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“If all we do is talk about our pain, we keep reliving the same moment, often becoming more traumatized with each repetition. We have to do more than just talk about what we are feeling. We have to examine why those emotions keep rising.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“I shouldn't be shocked to learn about Whitman. Should know by now not to trust anybody."
"That's not a very Lovey thing to say."
"Yeah, well, if you'd been burned like I have, you'd understand.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“You think Bitsy is happy, Fisher? Really? Look at her."
"I don't know. I'm not Bitsy. But if I were her, I wouldn't have married someone like Whitman in the first place. Don't you think she knew what she was signing up for?"
"So I guess that means you know what you're signing up for? Marrying a player like Blaire?”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“What if I had made different choices from the start? What if I had stuck around to watch another year of seasons spin here in Oxford, staying to see the daffodils bloom or to wander beneath the privet tunnel hand in hand with Fisher? What if we had kept right on kissing until the naked ladies emerged near the Osage orange? What if I had lingered long enough to see cape jasmine arrive, her voluptuous white bundles an aromatic call for summer love? Or even longer, when the spider lilies burst open in the fall and the yellow autumn light fell low among mossy roots? What if I had stayed through winter, forming snow angels with my lover beneath the icy cedar boughs? What if I had not let fear defeat me after Fisher knelt before me in my mother's backyard garden, ring in his hand and happy-ever-after in his heart?”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“I'm already opening my eyes as the sparrows bring me to life from beneath the sweet gum tree, their simple tune accompanied by migrating songbirds of every vibrant hue. Scarlet tanagers, prothonotary warblers, and my personal favorite, the indigo buntings who have returned with their striking blue feathers and silvery bills. The trees are alive, and they sing to tell us so.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“It doesn't matter what people call me. Fact of the matter is, I'm all that encompasses this human journey, and change is constant. That can't possibly be summed up in one little word.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Who are you texting?" She says this more as a threat than a question. Then she leans over, reads my screen. "Is that Fisher?"
I have not come home to cower to Bitsy's bullying again. This time I draw the line. "Your brazen disrespect of my personal boundaries continues with age, I see.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials