Beth Brower > Quotes

“Does he read?” “Oh, I expect not. How else would one remain so incredibly stupid?”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3

“The idea that one could live in a world where a friend would invite you to go read in another’s library feels more dream than reality. It bodes well for my life’s prospects”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 6

“Is it immoral to marry a man solely to gain a library? And if that man happens to be tremendously good looking, is it more or less of a sin?”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 4

“And I think that was the moment I began to suspect that the luck Hawkes spoke of might really only be an awareness, an awareness of grace.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“I make a go of it, when I can. It’s not my disposition to…what I mean to say is, I learned a long time ago that my happiness has to be separate from the things beyond my control.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3

“I hadn’t realised until that moment how much I’ve missed that feeling, of someone inside your four walls watching out for you. The feeling that home isn’t just a place, but also people. I’ve forgotten it could be.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3

“Hawkes began slowly. “It takes a great deal to trust the future after one is acquainted with loss.” “It feels impossible, for longer than is comforting. And then too tentative to trust.” “It does. But it seems that sword pierced Christ so that we always have a future. Even one different than planned.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“I’ve decided positivity is the Everest of virtues. You have to not only confront the dismal realities of life but choose, ofttimes, to blatantly ignore them.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“It takes a great deal to trust the future after one is acquainted with loss.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“Life must be lived. And if we can enjoy some of it, so much the better.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“Oh, how words love Hawkes. They wrap around the unexpected inflections of his voice, eager, offering their best cadence and lilt and soul. They know him well, and he them. Almost as if words are the one thing in his life he has never had to push away. He speaks words the way they pound in my chest. And it feels like a miracle, finding such a dear part of oneself walking around in someone else’s body.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 6

“I sit at the very top of a fresh month with a choice before me. One which very well may have an impact on the whole of my existence. Which book do I read next?”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 6

“It is one of the great arts of the human soul," Ezekiel said to himself.
Her hand on the door, Quincy shifted and looked back at her uncle's profile. "What is?"
"Staying with someone. Companionship is one of the great arts of the human soul.”
― Beth Brower, The Q

“A year is such an odd packet of time. It seems so ordered: a dozen months, a handful of seasons. Deceptively even. Make no mistake, it will go awry every which way. Balance? Impossible. Control? Not worth mentioning the word. Some days cling and others run, many shifting just enough to incommode but give no great variety. And then out of the pedestrian blue comes an explosion which reduces all plans to smithereens. The reward for making it through? Getting to do it again.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 7

“He said he wished you to be wise, and good, and true to the beatings of your own heart, and hoped that you could be spared the extremes of society, both the very poor and the very rich, so that neither need nor indulgence would spoil the soul he loved more than anything else in the world.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“It was Hawkes who gave voice. “Alchemy.” I shivered. That mythical pursuit that turns disparate elements to gold.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 4

“A grin is only a smile that’s fully decided to get on with it.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“Dreams are not reality.
UNTIL THEY ARE.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 2

“While there are many things beyond our control, I’ve always thought the cruellest is that we mortals are not told when our last glance is just that.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 1

“I must march forward before my desire has flown and I become one of those contented souls chained to their small routine, all the while believing themselves to be free. Don’t think I mind a routine, that’s just what I’m craving. But the right routine. My routine. Two walks a day, several hours of reading, perhaps one visit with someone I enjoy. One dinner or entertainment per week if you must, possibly two, but please let there be reading.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3

“It’s messier than we ever imagined it to be as children,” he said. “What?” “Life.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3

“If you want quality, you must work for it. You wake and you strive and you make decisions to sacrifice. An easy life will never bring the kind of satisfaction the soul craves. I despise people who lounge all day as if there weren’t more important ideas than comfort, complacency, and appetite. Stretch yourself! Be industrious! Do something!”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 7

“But my true love is the evening walk, that last hour of daylight that has its way with sunlight, shadow, and soul. That was the case this evening. The lamps were lit, light coming from the houses, and there walked I, alone, and not upset to be so.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 1

“I was there,” I exclaimed. “I could see myself, and the fire, the cool from the window, the table was piled with books, and I was writing something. And it was life, my life, and…and there were footsteps on the stairs.” “Whose?” “I don’t know. But he sounded like the other half of home.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“We cannot always predict the outcomes of our actions, Miss Lion, however well intended.” I stood. “What else is life but a string of outcomes beyond our control?”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3

“Two paths leading to a love. Both true. A different shape of happiness to be found with each. Which path you take? Depends on many things. What you choose. What they choose. A thousand other decisions, or possibly very few. One you would love deeply. One you would love completely. One sharp as a knife. One a game of mirrors.One more difficult. One less free. Both inheritors to the line that refused to die when your first heart was buried.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 8

“There is no feeling quite like finishing a book that you’ve loved. I expect to feel nothing less.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 6

“My mother always felt that Christmas -- a proper Christmas -- was meant to delight every sense”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

“I had forgotten what it is like to live with an artist. The unexpected pauses over what might be considered mundane to most.”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3

“I’ve always enjoyed the small turn that happens when one month folds into another. The exchange of the many for the one, the end for the beginning, over and over and over. My mother would say to look for bright things at a new month—“First day, Emma. What do you see gleaming?”
― Beth Brower, The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5