“His parents meant well, of course, but they always told him things like cheer up, or it will get better, or worse, it's not that bad, which is easy to say when you've never had a day of rain.”
― The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
― The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
“Three words, large enough to tip the world. I remember you.”
― The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
― The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
“Small places make for small lives. And some people are fine with that. They like knowing where to put their feet. But if you only walk in other people’s steps, you cannot make your own way. You cannot leave a mark.”
― The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
― The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
“What she needs are stories.
Stories are a way to preserve one's self. To be remembered. And to forget.
Stories come in so many forms: in charcoal, and in song, in paintings, poems, films. And books.
Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.”
― The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
Stories are a way to preserve one's self. To be remembered. And to forget.
Stories come in so many forms: in charcoal, and in song, in paintings, poems, films. And books.
Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.”
― The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
“Do you think a life has any value if one doesn’t leave some mark upon the world?'
Remy’s expression sobers, and he must read the sadness in her voice, because he says, 'I think there are many ways to matter.' He plucks the book from his pocket. 'These are the words of a man—Voltaire. But they are also the hands that set the type. The ink that made it readable, the tree that made the paper. All of them matter, though credit goes only to the name on the cover.'
He has misread her, of course, assumed the question stemmed from a different, more common fear. Still, his words hold weight—though it will be years before Addie discovers just how much.”
―
Remy’s expression sobers, and he must read the sadness in her voice, because he says, 'I think there are many ways to matter.' He plucks the book from his pocket. 'These are the words of a man—Voltaire. But they are also the hands that set the type. The ink that made it readable, the tree that made the paper. All of them matter, though credit goes only to the name on the cover.'
He has misread her, of course, assumed the question stemmed from a different, more common fear. Still, his words hold weight—though it will be years before Addie discovers just how much.”
―
Evi’s 2025 Year in Books
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