Amie

“Life’s but a walking shadow, Ulysses. I know, said Ulysses, holding him close to his chest. I know, I know. And I do love nothing in the world . . . so well . . . as you.”
― Sarah Winman, Still Life

“My granddaughter. She ran away to experience the nascent stirrings of love (le nascenti agitazioni dell'amore—Cress remembered the words from a poem) and now love has run away from her. She's somewhere up there—and he pointed to the black hills—cradling a broken heart, attempting to understand the complexity of human emotion. Why it's left her diminished when not long ago she felt like a conqueror. And here am I thinking what words can give the experience value. How to explain to her that the improbability of love, which she feels will last forever, will one day shine its light again. What words of consolation can be offered? What words of reassurance can I give her that a life lived without the object of her love is still worthwhile and hers for the taking?”
― Sarah Winman, Still Life

“The choice for the educated woman was clear and stark. Marriage and no creative expression. Or convent and creative expression. So, women entered the convent in order to paint. Such was the sacrifice. But when have women not sacrificed to live as they feel? Not all of us will embrace men, marriage, motherhood.”
― Sarah Winman, Still Life

“Sarmodel reached over and placed a spectral hand on my arm. "I have eaten hearts, Sebastian," he said, not unkindly, "and they are as any other meat. The only one that matters to me is yours, and I have shared it with you for lifetimes.”
― Cameron Sullivan, The Red Winter