The Wood Quotes

“After that, the strawberry wood became my favorite place to go. In the summer I picked the fruit, and ran up and down the alleys of trees, and in autumn, collected acorns, and lay on my back watching the sky through the open branches. In the spring, I picked violets, and wild garlic by the riverbank. In winter I built tunnels under the barrows of brambles, and all year round I watched the well, and listened to its breathing, and sometimes dropped a coin or a stone into the water, and whispered into the darkness.”
― Joanne Harris, The Strawberry Thief

“It's too early for strawberries. But the clearing is filled with their leaves and their little white flowers, like fallen stars. The wishing well was covered, too, so that only someone who knew it was there would have really noticed it. It looks like a barrow under the green; somewhere fairies or goblins might live.”
― Joanne Harris, The Strawberry Thief

“Reynaud's visit had made me want to go and see my wood again. I like saying that. My wood. My strawberry clearing. My path. My trees. My fence. My wishing well. Those things are mine now, Reynaud said. Not Roux's, not Maman's, but mine. Mine to do what I like in. Sometimes all I want to do is be alone; to sing, to shout, to run about, to talk to myself in my shadow-voice. And now I can do that whenever I want. The wood, the clearing, and the well- they are all mine to play with. I am no longer a trespasser. I am the guardian of a sacred place.”
― Joanne Harris, The Strawberry Thief

“Narcisse was gone. But I already knew. Someone has been up to no good. Someone caused an Accident. And now he has left me his strawberry wood, and everyone's discussing me.
They think I don't understand, but I do. It's my wood. My very own. And no-one will sell it, cut it down, or try to keep me from going there. I will build a house for myself, among the ferns and brambles. I will live on hazelnuts, and sorrel, and wild strawberries. And no-one will disturb me there, or laugh at all the things I do, because the wood belongs to me, and no-one else will go there.”
― Joanne Harris, The Strawberry Thief