Susan

“ONE SUNDAY MORNING, I climbed up to the light from a weighty and complicated dream, nothing of it left but a ringing in my ears and the ache of something slipped from my grasp and fallen into a crevasse where I would not see it again. Yet somehow—in the midst of this profound sinking, snapped threads, fragments lost and untrackable—a sentence stood out, ticking across the darkness like a news crawler at the bottom of a TV screen:”
― Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

“Can’t good come around sometimes through some strange back doors?”
― Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

“a starry ache that lifted me up above the windswept city like a kite: my head in the rainclouds, my heart in the sky.”
― Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch