“[H]iding how you really feel and trying to make everyone happy doesn't make you nice, it just makes you a liar.”
― Jenny O'Connell, quote from The Book of Luke
“I guess relationships are just funny like that. It's impossible to figure out why some work out and others don't. Why someone can be so imperfect and still be the perfect person for you. Maybe, in the end, it's not about changing the person you care about. Maybe it's about learning what you can live with. Or maybe it's really about learning what you can't live without.”
― Jenny O'Connell, quote from The Book of Luke
“Do not blame my tone of voice, my lack of patience, or my bad mood on PMS. It's not my period that's my problem.”
― Jenny O'Connell, quote from The Book of Luke
“GUY TIP #18:
Just because you can urinate anywhere you want doesn't mean you should-even if your aim is so good you can spell out "Red Sox Rule" in capital letters with once taking a break.”
― Jenny O'Connell, quote from The Book of Luke
“People can have nicknames. Body parts should not.”
― Jenny O'Connell, quote from The Book of Luke
“He was Pinocchio to my Gepetto.”
― Jenny O'Connell, quote from The Book of Luke
Jenny O'Connell
Born place: The United States
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“Maybe we should just wander around other countries carrying books.”
― Naomi Shihab Nye, quote from Honeybee: Poems Short Prose
“Ah yes, the people concerned. That is very important. You remember, perhaps, who they were?’
Depleach considered.
‘Let me see-it’s a long time ago. There were only five people who were really in it, so to speak-I’m not counting the servants-a couple of faithful old things, scared-looking creatures-they didn’t know anything about anything. No one could suspect them.’
‘There are five people, you say. Tell me about them.’
‘Well, there was Philip Blake. He was Crale’s greatest friend-had known him all his life. He was staying in the house at the time.He’s alive. I see him now and again on the links. Lives at St George’s Hill. Stockbroker. Plays the markets and gets away with it. Successful man, running to fat a bit.’
‘Yes. And who next?’
‘Then there was Blake’s elder brother. Country squire-stay at home sort of chap.’
A jingle ran through Poirot’s head. He repressed it. He mustnot always be thinking of nursery rhymes. It seemed an obsession with him lately. And yet the jingle persisted.
‘This little pig went to market, this little pig stayed at home…’
He murmured:
‘He stayed at home-yes?’
‘He’s the fellow I was telling you about-messed about with drugs-and herbs-bit of a chemist. His hobby. What was his name now? Literary sort of name-I’ve got it. Meredith. Meredith Blake. Don’t know whether he’s alive or not.’
‘And who next?’
‘Next? Well, there’s the cause of all the trouble. The girl in the case. Elsa Greer.’
‘This little pig ate roast beef,’ murmured Poirot.
Depleach stared at him.
‘They’ve fed her meat all right,’ he said. ‘She’s been a go-getter. She’s had three husbands since then. In and out of the divorce court as easy as you please. And every time she makes a change, it’s for the better. Lady Dittisham-that’s who she is now. Open anyTatler and you’re sure to find her.’
‘And the other two?’
‘There was the governess woman. I don’t remember her name. Nice capable woman. Thompson-Jones-something like that. And there was the child. Caroline Crale’s half-sister. She must have been about fifteen. She’s made rather a name for herself. Digs up things and goes trekking to the back of beyond. Warren-that’s her name. Angela Warren. Rather an alarming young woman nowadays. I met her the other day.’
‘She is not, then, the little pig who cried Wee Wee Wee…?’
Sir Montague Depleach looked at him rather oddly. He said drily:
‘She’s had something to cry Wee-Wee about in her life! She’s disfigured, you know. Got a bad scar down one side of her face. She-Oh well, you’ll hear all about it, I dare say.’
Poirot stood up. He said:
‘I thank you. You have been very kind. If Mrs Crale didnot kill her husband-’
Depleach interrupted him:
‘But she did, old boy, she did. Take my word for it.’
Poirot continued without taking any notice of the interruption.
‘Then it seems logical to suppose that one of these five people must have done so.’
‘One of themcould have done it, I suppose,’ said Depleach, doubtfully. ‘But I don’t see why any of themshould. No reason at all! In fact, I’m quite sure none of themdid do it. Do get this bee out of your bonnet, old boy!’
But Hercule Poirot only smiled and shook his head.”
― Agatha Christie, quote from Five Little Pigs
“We’re still us,” I managed, blinking back tears.
“I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us.”
“There won’t be. I won’t let there be if you won’t.”
“Good, Sweetheart. Good. We’ll just forget about this. It didn’t mean anything.”
― Samantha Young, quote from Until Fountain Bridge
“He was just a child himself, she saw. And lonely. He was the kind of man who probably always would be. 'Would you like some cake?' she tried. His countenance brightened. He would like some cake, he realized. He would like some cake very much indeed; he would like it above anything. When Sarah brought a slice of fruitcake up on a pretty blue-rimmed plate, she found that Mary was now also in the breakfast room, sitting stiffly on an upright chair near the young clergyman; she look round, heavy-eyed, when Sarah came in. Sarah had the distinct impression that she had disturbed not a conversation but a silence. Mary must be struggling to converse with him -- Sarah could sympathize -- too much time spent with books had not fitted her to be easy with herself, and other people. The young lady got up abruptly, and went to the window, and Mr. Collins got up too, looking relieved. He took the plat from Sarah and was profuse in his thanks, but then, with Mary there, did not know what to do with the cake after all.”
― Jo Baker, quote from Longbourn
“You know you're in the Lowcountry when the steering wheel in your old red pick up is slippery from humidity, the news on the radio is all about the projected path of the latest Atlantic hurricane and the road kill you narrowly miss smearing further is a five foot long alligator.”
― Natasha Boyd, quote from Eversea
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