“His sole mission is to kill, steal, and destroy Anna,” the angel warned. “His ways lead only to death. He whispers war into the ears of leaders, hate into the ears of nations, confusion into the ears of the youth, fear into the ears of the
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“There aren’t many worse feelings than being lonely in a crowded room. We have never lived in a more connected world, yet loneliness is only increasing. We as a society must look at the value of these connections; a thousand Instagram followers aren’t worth as much as one person who you can communicate honestly and openly with, at least in my opinion.”
― The Boy Between: A Mother and Son's Journey From a World Gone Grey
― The Boy Between: A Mother and Son's Journey From a World Gone Grey
“He sat down and picked up a pen. He looked at the photograph of him and his brother just after they’d joined up, and words that had so long evaded his mouth now gathered at the nib of his pen, and he wrote down everything he felt and everything he could see. He wrote to Peace once a week between their courting, and what he couldn’t get down on paper that first week he continued into the second week, then the third. He wrote sitting on a harbour bench, he wrote at the tiller of his boat. Peace got to know her fisherman through his letters. And when they met up she made him read them out loud, so that the words that had gathered at the nib of his pen found their rightful place upon his tongue. 47”
― A Year of Marvellous Ways
― A Year of Marvellous Ways
“He remembered how Michael had bragged that he could swim, but he couldn’t. He said that he’d read everything about swimming, firmly believing he could trip across words, like stepping stones, to the bank of experience. But he couldn’t. It would take another summer before Michael would learn to swim. But he floated, though. Face down in the river with his arms and legs out wide, and people watched, and sometimes their laughter turned to panic when they saw little sign of movement. Dead-Man’s Float, he”
― Tin Man
― Tin Man
“No paradise without a snake.”
― Your Story, My Story
― Your Story, My Story
“Looking back, I think that maybe the whole thing about liking and loving isn’t that having one word is better, or worse, than having two. It’s more that, perhaps, we actually need loads more words. It’s that we really need so many words to properly describe all the different kinds of love that having one, or just two, is neither here nor there. Because there’s the love you feel for your mother, the woman who gave birth to you, who you depended on, and the love you feel for your father, and they are entirely different kinds of love. There’s the love you feel for a brother or sister, and the fierce protective – hurt them and I will kill you – love you feel for your kids. There’s love for friends, who make you laugh and feel good about yourself – and love for just about any other human you see suffering on the news. There’s romantic, sexy love, that makes you want to get so close that you end up making babies, and the inexplicable love you have for an old cat or dog you’ve had for years. My point is, I suppose, that the list just goes on and on. And somewhere in that rainbow list of things we don’t have words for there’s a special kind of hormone-swamped love that a mother feels for a man when she sees him curled protectively round her sleeping child. That one’s a particularly nice kind of love. And a bloody powerful one, too. FIVE”
― The Imperfection of Us
― The Imperfection of Us
Jan’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Jan’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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