Jenna

“It really doesn’t matter the amount of time that passes between visits to your hometown. It’s as if a sleeping sensibility awakens in the very marrow of your bones to answer a call made even more insistent by its silence. It’s a call from within, a visceral response to the way sunlight lies across a certain green field or the sight of a mockingbird all alone on a fence post.”
― Pamela Terry, The Sweet Taste of Muscadines

“Growing up in the South is not for the faint of heart. An enigmatic place at the best of times, it is paradoxical to the core. Finding your way through the various switchbacks and roundabouts that make up the overgrown maze of its personality can be a bewildering experience and one that often takes a lifetime, at least. Just when you think you have it solidly in your sights, it slips around a corner, leaving only the faint fragrance of a fading magnolia hanging in the muggy air. At the very moment you feel confident in its definition, it can, without warning, fashion itself into a creature of myth, sending you back to huddle over your history books and crystal balls, once again in search of the truth about this place you call home. Its a land where heart-stopping beauty and heartrending ugliness flourish in tandem, a land of kindness and hate, of ignorance and wit, of integrity, blindness, and pride.”
― Pamela Terry, The Sweet Taste of Muscadines

“Every house is haunted. Some are haunted in the traditional way: by spirits generally more mischievous than malevolent, who take delight in closing the open door, rocking the empty chair, or snuffing out the flaming candle, unfortunate souls who failed to squeeze enough enjoyment out of their paltry allotment of days to sufficiently satisfy their eternity. Most, however, are wanted by our own memories: bits of ourselves, individual and unique, left behind and lying dormant for decades but with the power to quicken and breathe the moment we step back inside.”
― Pamela Terry, The Sweet Taste of Muscadines

“You see, there is no book that can please everyone. And if there were, it would be a bad book. You can’t be everyone’s friend, because everyone is different. You’d have to be completely lacking in personality, no rough edges or sharp corners. But even then, many people wouldn’t like you, because they need rough edges and sharp corners. Do you understand? Every person needs different books. Because what one person loves with all their heart, might leave another completely cold.”
― Carsten Henn