Marshall Fine > Quotes

“And, finally, Ruth cried for herself and for all the things she’d put aside in the name of being the dutiful one, the one who did what was expected, the one who did what she was supposed to do, instead of the one who got what she wanted. She cried because she felt as though she never got anything she ever wanted, at any point in her life.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“It made Ruth uncomfortably aware of the general fragility of existence, something she didn’t like to consider.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“As she did so, Ruth tried to catalog her feelings and sensations so she could sort them out later.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“Comparison is the thief of joy. —Theodore Roosevelt”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“Do the thing you fear most”
― Marshall Fine, Hemlock Lane: A Novel

“People with Asperger’s, she read, had difficulty understanding emotional cues in other people. That wasn’t Ruth’s problem; she understood emotions all too well—and lived in fear of them.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“Ruth hated to feel hurried. It flustered her, and she liked to be calm for the children, who injected their own energy into any moment. But she was running behind schedule. She had prided herself her entire life on being punctual. “If you’re not early, you’re late,” her father used to say. It wouldn’t do to keep the children waiting.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“And then she cried because she had no idea what it was that she did want, at this moment when the end of her life was so much closer than the beginning.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“And, finally, Ruth cried for herself and for all the things she’d put aside in the name of being the dutiful one, the one who did what was expected, the one who did what she was supposed to do, instead of the one who got what she wanted. She cried because she felt as though she never got anything she ever wanted, at any point in her life. And then she cried because she had no idea what it was that she did want, at this moment when the end of her life was so much closer than the beginning.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“I’ve been waiting fifty years to go out with you again.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“Nora had a cheerful diffidence that said “Yes”
― Marshall Fine, Hemlock Lane: A Novel

“And, without missing a beat or even looking up from your lunch, you said, “Her consolation prize will be when she becomes Miss Fertilized Ovaries of 1967.” So fast. Sharp as a razor.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“Ruth herself was cloaked in a veil of reticence. She lived in perpetual fear of embarrassment and saw danger of it everywhere. If her motto was emblazoned on a needlepoint pillow, it would read I PROBABLY SHOULDN’T. She seldom did.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters

“But the words Ruth started to say—“My sister died”—caught at the lump in her throat. She was silent for a moment, breathing in and out. Having to say it out loud brought on a wave of emotion. She took another deep breath and said, “My sister died. The funeral was Saturday.” Jane gasped, then took Ruth’s hand and said, “I’m so sorry. That had to be terrible for you.” Ruth’s emotional defenses finally collapsed. Ruth, who had made it a point to be the calm and calming center of the emotional storm brought on by Veronica’s passing, now found herself laying her head on her arms on her kitchen table and unleashing all the tears she had kept in check while she was with her family. As Jane put a comforting arm around her shoulder, Ruth cried. She cried for Veronica and for Chloe and for Irwin. She cried for her mother and her father. And, finally, Ruth cried for herself and for all the things she’d put aside in the name of being the dutiful one, the one who did what was expected, the one who did what she was supposed to do, instead of the one who got what she wanted. She cried because she felt as though she never got anything she ever wanted, at any point in her life. And then she cried because she had no idea what it was that she did want, at this moment when the end of her life was so much closer than the beginning.”
― Marshall Fine, The Autumn of Ruth Winters