Tracy Ewens Quotes

Meg considered her three big sisters, three different women united in a childhood of memories and the adult lives they'd fumbled through. She had spent her life trying to outrun and outperform each of their shadows, but she'd grown up on her adventures and returned home with clear vision.

It's sort of like books. Yeah, you know how you read certain books and at the last page you're filled with the story and you sort of don't want to leave the characters?

joy and love came from so many places and often went hand in hand with pain.

she surveyed the chaos of her apartment and told herself, as she had almost every morning for the past two years, that she would start unpacking when she got home.

He saw politics as a jumbled mess that accomplished little if anything at

Couldn't he have come out and greeted her like a civil human being instead of lurking from his kitchen while she shared a clearly intimate moment with his brisket?

Cynda and her current crazy boyfriend. This one was a nude painter. He didn't paint nudes, he painted in the nude.

After the news Kate had called him with last night, Grady found himself wishing there was more than coffee in his cup. There was a lull in the bickering, so Grady tried again. "For the last damn time, I am not gay," he said quietly. "Okay, so you say. I mean if that's your story, I'm fine with that," Stanley said, rolling his eyes. "Well that's just great." Grady stood and made eye contact with Kate.

She was the baby and the sister most likely being lectured when their mother assessed all four of them and scrunched her face. "Meg, honestly, did you even try brushing that rat's nest?

Have you ever played a sport?" Dane asked, attention still on the field. He knew she was there? That startled her a little, and Anna wondered if she'd be perpetually uncomfortable in the presence of Dane Sivac, not that she would let that show. "I have of late - but wherefore I know not - lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises," flew off her lips before she had a chance to stop herself.

Thanks. I was looking for" - he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket - "Ms. Jeffries. She teaches Shakespeare, poor woman. Do you know where I can find her?" Cynda pointed to Anna right as she stood to leave. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize.

The fog, which Meg knew from her father wasn't fog at all, but low-lying clouds, began to burn off as the morning sun continued its climb through a blue-gray sky. The Golden Gate Bridge came into focus right before her eyes through a cloud that caressed the crimson metal into view.

It occurred to Meg that there were probably a lot of her mother's friends she'd never met. "Naughty Book Club. They've known each other for a few years.

it was better to be a quiet surprise than a loud letdown.

But oh, the irony of meeting about green initiatives over tiny disposable water bottles.