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Alma P

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Alma’s Bookshelves

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Alma is Currently Reading

Alma P is currently reading

My Husband's Wife

by Alice Feeney (Goodreads Author)

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(page 200 of 310)
— Jul 18, 2026 09:52AM

Jul 18, 2026 09:52AM

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Wild Dark Shore

by Charlotte McConaghy

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Alma’s Notes & Highlights

The Let Them Theory by Mel Robbins

1 note & 18 highlights

Thinking about your problems will never solve them. Waiting around to feel like doing something means you’ll never do it. It taught me that no one is coming to save you. You must save yourself from yourself.

See Alma P’s 31 books with notes and highlights…

Alma’s Quotes

“The truth was that I didn’t know which I was. I wasn’t allowed to claim the thing I felt and I didn’t feel the thing I was supposed to claim.”
― Cristina Henriquez, The Book of Unknown Americans

11 likes

“I feel myself retreating to someplace deep inside. It is a pitiful kind of childhood, to know that no one loves you or is taking care of you, to always be on the outside looking in. I feel a decade older than my years. I know too much; I have seen people at their worst, at their most desperate and selfish, and this knowledge makes me wary. So I am learning to pretend, to smile and nod, to display empathy I do not feel. I am learning to pass, to look like everyone else, even though I feel broken inside.”
― Christina Baker Kline, Orphan Train

4 likes

“That's why we get the chance to spoil our grandchildren, because by doing that we're apologizing to our children.”
― Fredrik Backman, And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer

72 likes

“They were sixteen and even the snow was happy that morning, falling soap-bubble light and landing on cold cheeks as though the flakes were gently trying to wake someone they loved. She stood in front of him with January in her hair, and he was lost.”
― Fredrik Backman, And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer

16 likes

“For eventually, we come to hold our dearest possessions more closely than we hold our friends. We carry them from place to place, often at considerable expense and inconvenience; we dust and polish their surfaces and reprimand children for playing too roughly in their vicinity—all the while, allowing memories to invest them with greater and greater importance. This armoire, we are prone to recall, is the very one in which we hid as a boy; and it was these silver candelabra that lined our table on Christmas Eve; and it was with this handkerchief that she once dried her tears, et cetera, et cetera. Until we imagine that these carefully preserved possessions might give us genuine solace in the face of a lost companion.”
― Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow

2 likes

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