Niece Quotes

“But to love Frances was to be always saying goodbye to the girl Frances used to be and falling in love again with the girl Frances was becoming.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, Atmosphere

“I’m your uncle?”

Oh. So that’s what was bothering him. Izzy could have done a lot of things at this moment to assuage Eibhear’s annoyance. A lot of things.

She didn’t do any of them.

Instead she said, “Well…you are my uncle.” She brushed a bit of nonexistent dirt off his bare shoulder. “And I was your ward until years later when you finally had your vile, dirty uncle way with me.”

”Izzy.”
― G.A. Aiken, How to Drive a Dragon Crazy

“Wretch! I shan’t allow you to take a rise out of me! I want to talk to you about Jane!”
“Who the devil is—Oh, yes, I know! One of your girls!”
“My eldest daughter, and, let me remind you, your niece, Alverstoke!”
“Unjust, Louisa, I needed no reminder!”
“I am bringing the dear child out this season,”[...]
“You’ll have to do something about her freckles—if she’s the one I think she is,” he interrupted. “Have you tried citron-water?”
“I didn’t invite you to come here to discuss Jane’s appearance!” she snapped.
“Well, why did you invite me?”
“To ask you to hold a ball in her honour—at Alverstoke House!” she disclosed, rushing her fence.
“To do what?”
― Georgette Heyer, Frederica

“The moment my niece came into the world, I realized that logic can't make sense of someone who's so brand new to you.”
― Crystal Woods, Write like no one is reading

“Joan felt, so acutely, that the incurable problem with life was that nothing was ever in balance. That she could not have toddler Frances and fifth-grade Frances at the same time. She could not meet adult Frances and have a moment to hold baby Frances all at once. You could not have a little of everything you wanted.
Joan tried to remind herself that when Frances had been younger, she had held France's little hand every single chance she got. When Frances has been a baby, she had smelled hair sometimes for whole minutes at a time. She had been present for all of it. Didn't that mean that she would not grieve its loss, since she had voraciously and self-indulgently taken all of it that was offered?
No. It did not.
She still ached for every version of Frances.
But to love Frances was to be always saying goodbye to the girl Frances used to be and falling in love again with the girl Frances was becoming.
She missed every Frances she known. But oh, this Frances. This lanky, gangly, whip-smart Frances, with her ears pierced and a Cyndi Lauper T-shirt on, this Frances was a gift Joan would one day miss, too.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, Atmosphere

“The only thing most of us love about most of our family members is that they are related to us.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“If you do not allow me to come, I shall write to my father."
I gave a sharp breath of laughter. "You think he will sympathize with your desire to go charging into Faerie? I will rise in his esteem for refusing you--- though admittedly this is because his expectations of me are at ground level."
"You don't understand," she said. "I shall write to him to say that you have given me little in the way of supervision, and allow me to wander the mountains at all hours, despite the danger. And then, after I have sent the letter off, I shall follow you into the nexus. And what will happen, do you think, if I do not catch up to you?"
We gazed at each other in silence for a long moment. Ariadne looked pale, and several times she had the appearance of biting back an apology, but she did not apologize. Nor did she drop my gaze.
"You wretched brat," I finally said. "I will tie you to your bed.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands

“Got what?' he asked. If ever I missed my uncle’s dimples, it was now that he didn’t smile at this perfect opportunity to tease his favorite niece and let his dimples show.”
― Rita Williams-Garcia, Gone Crazy in Alabama

“That kind of faith was a lot to put on a six-year-old girl. Joan tried to keep it in check. To be ready to accept all the ways that Frances would grow and change and blossom into her full imperfection.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, Atmosphere

“Brigid couldn't help but be charmed by this clever girl, with her baby doll freckles and wild red curls. She'd clearly inherited all the best of the Duncan clan. Sadie's energy, Rose's warmth, Ivy's optimism, her mother's beauty. According to the last report filed by Brigid's private investigator, Sybil worked three lunch shifts a week at a soup kitchen in her neighborhood. She fed a colony of feral cats near the Brooklyn waterfront and picked up trash in Prospect Park.”
― Kirsten Miller, The Women of Wild Hill

“In the attic, the three discovered an entire rack of evening gowns representing every fashion trend of the twentieth century. Brigid chose a strapless black cocktail dress that Sadie had worn. Phoebe found a flowing white Halston that Flora purchased back in the seventies. And Sibyl chose a gold-beaded flapper dress that had belonged to her great-great-grandmother, Rose.
Liam sent a car to fetch them for the party. Gathered in the foyer, it was the first time they saw each other in their formal wear. Brigid's eyes were smoky and lips scarlet. Her red hair fell over her bare shoulders, where blue veins were just visible beneath violet-tinged skin. Phoebe's skin glowed with no assistance from makeup, and she wore her hair in a crown of braids woven through with a golden ribbon. Sibyl was where all the Duncans traits met. She was light and dark, glamorous and natural. Her red curls formed a bloom around her lovely face. The Three looked, very much, like a trio.”
― Kirsten Miller, The Women of Wild Hill