Elisabeth Grace Foley > Quotes

“The war had been a daily thought, a continual consciousness in her life for two years, but never a real presence. Battles were things that were fought somewhere else, won somehow, by someone, and lost by someone else. Now as she stood by her own door and listened to the cannons, it was with a chilling, dreadfully full and clear realization that men were out on the field beneath that gray cloud taking each other’s lives.”
― Elisabeth Grace Foley, War Memorial

“Sam was staring at Claire with about the same amazement as his brother had shown. Claire didn’t seem to realize it, or else she was too preoccupied to think of it, but she was the second thunderbolt that had fallen on this long-hidebound household in as many days. First one of the hated race of doctors had been shoehorned in on them as the only thing that might get them out of an already nightmarish situation, and now this matter-of-fact slip of a girl had pushed into it of her own accord. They must have felt like the world was coming down around their ears.”
― Elisabeth Grace Foley, Left-Hand Kelly

“The rain still drummed on the roof, like fine needles striking the shingles. The family sat silently around the table, each one wrapped in their own thoughts.
It was Matthew’s voice that broke the silence, asking, “And what happened after that?”
“After that,” said Paul, “came Gettysburg.”
― Elisabeth Grace Foley, War Memorial

“Perhaps she had seen worse things that night - but this time she felt the pain of it through and through in a way she could not before, for now the face of war and suffering was a face she knew.”
― Elisabeth Grace Foley, War Memorial

“There is a difference between being told the truth and being beaten over the head with it”
― Elisabeth Grace Foley, The Mountain of the Wolf

“Look here,” I said, “what is this?” (I was already getting tired of “Who are you and what are you doing here?”)
“Good morning,” he said. Then he grinned as if he couldn’t help seeing the absurdity of it. “I mean, it is a good morning in some respects at least, but I don’t think that’s what you meant.”
“No, it is not,” I snapped. “What I mean is, who are you, and what are you doing here?”
― Elisabeth Grace Foley, Bridge to Trouble

“If she hadn’t had so much responsibility to keep her busy, she might have been the kind of child that drives schoolteachers into nervous breakdowns and invents the delightful schemes and plays for which somebody else always seems to get in trouble. Even so, she still got into scrapes sometimes, mainly daring the cowboys to do madcap riding stunts or putting pepper in the coffee of somebody who didn’t have the sense of humor to appreciate it.”
― Elisabeth Grace Foley, Wanderlust Creek and Other Stories

“He coughed, and spit dust. “Oh…just a fight,” he said.
He grinned up at her from one side of his face; his right eye was already half swollen shut.
“I was doing all right for about half a minute, but after that it was all the other way.”
“There were two of them,” said his friend Tripp hotly. “It wasn’t a fight; they just beat him up.”
“Billy and Ames,” supplied Mark, somewhat muffled by the wet cloth being applied to his split lip. “Dunno what got into ’em—just decided they didn’t like me, I guess.”
― Elisabeth Grace Foley, Wanderlust Creek and Other Stories