“No one can know sincere happiness, Sophie, without first having known sorrow. One can never appreciate the enormity and rareness of such a fiery bliss without seeing misery, however unfair that may be.”
“The shortest distance between two points is the line from me to you.”
“Fear, Sadness. They're not weaknesses. They are overpowering, defining emotions. They make you human, Sophie.”
“Tell him he was my greatest adventure. Tell him I love him.”
“The truth is, I'm so deep in love with you, I can't see straight. The truth is, I've been afraid to admit it to myself, let alone you. The truth is, I'm terrified.”
“I was not staring at you,” he told his plate.
I leaned over. “Did you hear that, Dingane’s lunch? He was not staring at you.”
He looked up at me crossly. “I was not staring at you.”
“I never said you were.”
“I was merely explaining that Henry was exaggerating. I did not stare at you.”
“Okay,” I stated, implying in my tone that he had done just that.
“I didn’t. I-I wasn’t.”
“I believe you,” I told him
“I may have looked at you a few times to make sure you were doing your job.”
“Oh, I see then.”
“But I certainly wasn’t staring.”
“We’ve established that you were not staring.”
He breathed deeply a few times, his eyes burning into mine. “Good.”
He’d definitely been staring.”
“And what is there to be joyful about?" I asked honestly, thinking on the images of dead children curled into themselves at the village. Another burst of silent tears streamed down.
"Life, Sophie. They still live. They breathe, they love each other, they find joy in the world around them for no other reason than because they are children. They are resilient. They will always rise above. Always. It is a curious facet of the innocent young.”
“If we don’t make out of this alive, Sophie Price, I want you to know that I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. You’re it for me.”
“Vanity's a debilitating affliction. You’re so absorbed in yourself it’s impossible to love anyone other than oneself, leaving you weak without realization of it. It’s quite sad. You’ve no idea what you’re missing either. You will never know real love and your life will pas you by.”
“You are so gosh damn beautiful in here," he said, tapping my chest, "that what's here," he spoke, running the side of his hand down my face, "is magnified tenfold and that is a sight to be hold.”
“Their innocence is addicting, their hope is catching and I'm happy to be surrounded by them.”
“It’s the favorite part of my day.”
My eyes opened lazily. “What do you mean?” I whispered.
“When you undo them and run your hands throughout the waves. That’s my favorite part of the day.”
“You may have misery," she continued, ignoring my plea, "you may lose hope in the sorrow of an unplanned life but as long as you have faith and trust in adoration, in affection, in love, that sorrow will turn to happiness. And that is a constant, dear.”
“No need to flatter me, Miss Price. I believe your bait worked. I’m hooked. Line and sinker.”
“I wasn't crying for myself. I was crying for the innocents.”
“My god, he’s the one who gets the girls? What? Is he made of chocolate or something?”
“You've arrested my senses and I can't seem to get enough of you. That's what scares me. I'm so deep there's no getting out for me. You own me, you know?”
“Your heart is startingly beautiful, Sophie." - Ian”
“It was like my body knew instantly that he was mine and that I was his.”
“Note to self, Ian is happiest when in dangerous situations.”
“Men wanted me. They all did, however briefly, but none of them wanted to keep me. That's what I needed. I needed to be owned, loved. BUT NOT BY A MAN. I knew then that I never needed to be kept by a man. What I needed was to love myself, to want to keep myself around. And in that revelation, I knew that if I wanted to keep myself, that a man wanting to keep me would just be a by-product.”
“Fascinating,” I said, turning toward Ian. “You never told me Simon went to Oxford.”
“Simon went to Oxford, Sophie.”
“That girl was the real me. Frightened. Worthless. A terrible friend. Terrible daughter. Well educated but so limited in ideas worth having. Beautiful yet repulsive…
And finally honest.”
“Prepare yourself, Price, ‘cause I’m about to rock your world.”
“P.S. I'm going to throw an absolutely mind-blowing fact your way. I'm not kidding, either. The country of Uganda is obsessed with Celine Dion. They dedicate entire days to broadcasting her music. They love her that much. Five words. My. Heart. Will. Go. On. Yeah.”
“But they have life and faith and hope and love and they choose those things. Their innocence is addicting, their hope is catching and I'm happy to be surrounded by them”
“Stay with me”
“I don’t have a choice,” I told him.
“You do. Choose me, Soph.”
“I’d been kissed before, many times, but never like that.”
“One day you will blink and the haze will dissipate. You'�ll discover that what once defined you has wilted
into graying hair and wrinkled skin. Frantic, you�ll glance around yourself, in hopes of finding those you
swore adored you, but all you will find is empty picture frames.”
“I wasn’t different from most girls I knew. Well, except the fact I was exponentially better looking, but why beat a dead horse?”
“The sixties have a reputation for being open and free and cool, but the reality was that everybody was straight. Everybody was totally straight and then there was Us - this pocketful of nuts. We had long hair, and we'd get chased down the block. People would chase you for ten blocks, screaming, "Beatle!" They were out of their fucking minds- that was the reality of the sixties. Nobody had long hair- you were a fucking freack, you were a fruit, you were not like the rest of the world. - Ronnie Cutrone (1965-1968)”
“Mirabelle is attractive; it's just that she is never the first or second girl chosen.”
“all right we are two nations”
“Size, we are told, is not a crime. But size may, at least, become noxious by reason of the means through which it was attained or the uses to which it is put. — Louis Brandeis, Other People’s Money: And How the Bankers Use It, 1913”
“borrowed Shane’s four-wheel to make the hill. Parked it and came to the door in time to see your eyes roll back in your head.” He walked back to her, stripped off his coat and tucked it over her legs. “By the way, how’d you get in?” “I—” She stared at him, swallowed. “I opened the door.” “It was locked.” “No, it wasn’t.” Lifting a brow, he jingled the keys in his pocket. “That’s interesting.” “You’re not lying,” she said after a moment. “Not this time. Why don’t you tell me what you heard?” “Footsteps. But there was no one there.” To warm them, she tucked her hands”
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