Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Lace Makers of Glenmara

..."Each step she took left a mark, some visible, some not, marks that said, I was here, I exist. That was one of the reasons people went away, wasn't it, to forget, to reinvent themselves"...
..."She gazed at the surrounding country, as if to see it with her mother's eyes, the colors saturated as an oil painting, the sky dusky pearl over fields of foxglove and lupine and wild narcissus, the textured brush strokes of velvet mosses and tussocks of shaggy green and gold, brilliant in the sun."...

..."pieces so delicate, so fragile, a single breath might carry them away"...


..."her tears smeared the landscape into an Impressionist painting, colors and shapes blurring"...


..."You're forgetting that there's plenty room in our lives for other people. Just because I've welcomed Kate into my life doesn't mean, I'm shutting you out"...

No comments:

Post a Comment

if the spirit moves you, type some words