Kate

“Outside, the first true warmth of the year was starting to melt the snow in the front garden. The ash trees dripped and the roofs of the cars on the driveway gave off wisps of evaporating moisture. In the sunlight, wood and stone were polished. It was almost blinding to look along the lane. But it was the birds, thought Richard. The astonishment of them. Down in the wood, they were loud with delight but also shock, as if after the long winter they had found their songs too big for their mouths and could not prevent them from spilling out across the field.”
― Andrew Michael Hurley, Starve Acre

“Getting things done at St Mary’s is a bit like elephants mating,’ explained Peterson. A remark that caused some mystification. ‘You know – there’s frantic activity at high level. There’s screaming and stamping. A lot of dust is raised. Nothing happens for two years and then you’re crushed by the result.”
― Jodi Taylor, A Trail Through Time

“Is there a more comforting thought than having one’s dear departed close at hand? Death loses its sting, its permanence, and life acquires greater value, greater meaning. No longer is there a before and an after, but a whole.”
― Victoria Mas, The Mad Women's Ball

“Gus doesn’t belong in this world. He was born with a Hollywood chin, a butter touch, and an ear that can hear rhythms tapped out from Neptune. In another life he would have been drumming in Johnny Carson’s band, drinking water out of a mug. But in this one he has a disease and he can’t say no to shysters like Charlie, who uses his wife and kid to cheat on Gus’s lousy, glowing heart.”
― Marie-Helene Bertino, 2 A.M. at The Cat's Pajamas