Quotes from The Splendor Falls

“Screw you, John."
"Sorry, Sylvie. Can't—they frown on that kind of thing between step-siblings.”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

“She was the only creature in the world who would really care if something happened to me, even if it was only because I was the bringer of kibble.”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

“Long-haired Chihuahuas have no notion they are bite-sized.”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

“He rose to his feet in one fluid move, the better to look down at me. “You don’t know me, princess.
Some people have reasons for doing things, and don’t just go wherever they’re told or drift whichever
way they’re pushed.”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

“i should take my dog for a walk now. i can only handle one bitch at a time”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

“I’d seen the banner over Main Street announcing the festival, but I hadn’t known what to expect. I had a bit of a clue as Shawn drove past cars and pickups parked two deep on the town’s side streets and in the lots of stores that appeared to be closed for the day. “Where did all these people come from?” I asked. Gigi stood on my lap, her paws on the window, just as fascinated, but less flabbergasted. Shawn slid me a smile as we pulled into a private parking lot right before the barricades across Main Street.”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

“Since I was in church anyway, I thanked God that Addie had spent the night with Kimberley, and was not around to witness the Incredible River Disaster and its aftermath. The morning was difficult enough with only the regular amount of speculation and staring. The antique pews were not very comfortable. Davis backsides had suffered the same wooden torture for generations, and I wondered if it was any easier with voluminous skirts and petticoats.”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

“When Gigi woke me in the morning, my first thought wasn’t about magic, or about Rhys or Shawn, or how much my romantic troubles were tied up in the mysteries of Bluestone Hill, or what that had to do with the ghosts, if anything. It was about my garden.”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

“Oh my God.” I fell into my usual chair, stunned—but also not—that the news had made the rounds so quickly. “You mean it didn’t even take an hour for it to get back here?”
― Rosemary Clement-Moore, quote from The Splendor Falls

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Popular quotes

“She nodded approvingly at Kyle. “I like her already.”
“Jordo…” he said warningly.
“What? That was a compliment.” She turned back to Rylann. “Question: you’re not secretly a money-grubbing skank, are you?”
Kyle looked pained. “My God, Jordan.”
“What? It’s a fair question given your past predilections.”
― Julie James, quote from About That Night

“She nodded her head silently to the demons taking tea with her on the sofa.”
― Christopher Scotton, quote from The Secret Wisdom of the Earth

“Failure gave me an inner security that I had never attained by passing examinations.”
― J.K. Rowling, quote from Very Good Lives: The Fringe Benefits of Failure and the Importance of Imagination

“You are so fucking sexy.” He peppered kisses along my jaw … “The things I’m going to do to you, babe. I’m going to make you mine, every single piece of you.” Our eyes locked, his filled with sexual promise. “No holds barred, Grace. Not with me. I’m going to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow, and you’re going to let me.”
… His voice lowered and he leaned down to brush his mouth softly over mine. “But right now I’m going to make love to you.”
― Samantha Young, quote from Moonlight on Nightingale Way

“Maria, lonely prostitute on a street of pain,
You, at least, hail me and speak to me
While a thousand others ignore my face.
You offer me an hour of love,
And your fees are not as costly as most.
You are the madonna of the lonely,
The first-born daughter in a world of pain.
You do not turn fat men aside,
Or trample on the stuttering, shy ones,
You are the meadow where desperate men
Can find a moment's comfort.

Men have paid more to their wives
To know a bit of peace
And could not walk away without the guilt
That masquerades as love.
You do not bind them, lovely Maria, you comfort them
And bid them return.
Your body is more Christian than the Bishop's
Whose gloved hand cannot feel the dropping of my blood.
Your passion is as genuine as most,
Your caring as real!

But you, Maria, sacred whore on the endless pavement of pain,
You, whose virginity each man may make his own
Without paying ought but your fee,
You who know nothing of virgin births and immaculate conceptions,
You who touch man's flesh and caress a stranger,
Who warm his bed to bring his aching skin alive,
You make more sense than stock markets and football games
Where sad men beg for virility.
You offer yourself for a fee--and who offers himself for less?

At times you are cruel and demanding--harsh and insensitive,
At times you are shrewd and deceptive--grasping and hollow.
The wonder is that at times you are gentle and concerned,
Warm and loving.
You deserve more respect than nuns who hide their sex for eternal love;
Your fees are not so high, nor your prejudice so virtuous.
You deserve more laurels than the self-pitying mother of many children,
And your fee is not as costly as most.

Man comes to you when his bed is filled with brass and emptiness,
When liquor has dulled his sense enough
To know his need of you.
He will come in fantasy and despair, Maria,
And leave without apologies.
He will come in loneliness--and perhaps
Leave in loneliness as well.
But you give him more than soldiers who win medals and pensions,
More than priests who offer absolution
And sweet-smelling ritual,
More than friends who anticipate his death
Or challenge his life,
And your fee is not as costly as most.

You admit that your love is for a fee,
Few women can be as honest.
There are monuments to statesmen who gave nothing to anyone
Except their hungry ego,
Monuments to mothers who turned their children
Into starving, anxious bodies,
Monuments to Lady Liberty who makes poor men prisoners.
I would erect a monument for you--
who give more than most--
And for a meager fee.

Among the lonely, you are perhaps the loneliest of all,
You come so close to love
But it eludes you
While proper women march to church and fantasize
In the silence of their rooms,
While lonely women take their husbands' arms
To hold them on life's surface,
While chattering women fill their closets with clothes and
Their lips with lies,
You offer love for a fee--which is not as costly as most--
And remain a lonely prostitute on a street of pain.

You are not immoral, little Maria, only tired and afraid,
But you are not as hollow as the police who pursue you,
The politicians who jail you, the pharisees who scorn you.
You give what you promise--take your paltry fee--and
Wander on the endless, aching pavements of pain.
You know more of universal love than the nations who thrive on war,
More than the churches whose dogmas are private vendettas made sacred,
More than the tall buildings and sprawling factories
Where men wear chains.
You are a lonely prostitute who speaks to me as I pass,
And I smile at you because I am a lonely man.”
― James Kavanaugh, quote from There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves

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