Dead Generations Quotes

“We walked to a row of three stones: our grandmother and grandfather and, between them, our mother. There were crocuses and daffodils and snowdrops blooming on my mother's grave. Gran had always carefully tended it. After Sunday dinners, when we were little, Gran would put on her wide-brimmed gardening hat and gloves and take along her basket of garden tools and bring us down here. She would plant lavender petunias and purple bearded irises. She would deadhead the spent daylilies and pull up weeds on my mother's grave and on my great-grandmother Beulah's grave back in the corner. She barely touched my grandfather's grave, scratched in some monkey grass and ivy and told us even that was too good for him.”
― Mindy Friddle, The Garden Angel

“Ian held him tighter. Close enough to see the cluster of freckles spread over the bridge of his nose. The tiny beads of sweat gathered over his full upper lip. One bottom tooth’s
crooked angle, standing out from a row of near symmetrical
whiteness, for once, Ian wanting to observe and claim those minute details, wanting him in every conceivable way. His entire
body burning turned inside and out, yet how to tell him what he meant to him. Not only something but everything.”
― Anne Russo

“Ian held him tighter. Close enough to see the cluster of freckles spread over the bridge of his nose. The tiny beads of sweat gathered over his full upper lip. One bottom tooth’s
crooked angle, standing out from a row of near symmetrical whiteness, for once, Ian wanting to observe and claim those minute details, wanting him in every conceivable way. His entire body burning turned inside and out, yet how to tell him what he meant to him. Not only something but everything.”
― Anne Russo