What do you think?
Rate this book


336 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 7, 2013
“Her face reminded Mary of the shape of a flower vase, the planes of her cheeks rising up at a gentle incline to her prominent cheekbones, bones Mary had inherited, although not her mother’s nut-brown Cherokee skin or her coal-black eyes. Mary wondered how long it would take to inherit her mother’s calloused hands and matching nature.”
“What right did she have to take photographs of strangers? But she knew these faces. Even if she had never seen a single one of these people before, something deep inside of her recognized them. These people had been mad to feel inadequate, abnormal. Their lives were disfigured by circumstances. She had to take their pictures because what she saw, what she saw, marked her as much as a limp or the fact that she was the only gentile in a school filled with Jews or that her father did not lover her enough to stay.”
“The story of history is the story of its telling and its retelling. There are truths lost to time and desire.”