Top 77 Quotes & Sayings by Sara Gruen - Page 2

Why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?

The thought has cheered me, and I'd like to hang onto that. Must protect my little pockets of happiness.

When I first submerged my feet into frigid water, they hurt so badly I yanked them out again. I persisted, dunking them for longer and longer periods, until the cold finally blistered.

I just think I'm better equipped to make a study of human personality than trying to get into the mind of animals.

When did I stop being me?

Juliet is one of those rare novels that has it all: lush prose, tightly intertwined parallel narratives, intrigue, and historical detail all set against a backdrop of looming danger. Anne Fortier casts a new light on one of history's greatest stories of passion. I was swept away.

They grew fat and happy--the horses, not the children, or Marlena for that matter.

So what if I'm ninety-three? So what if I'm ancient and cranky and my body's a wreck? If they're willing to accept me and my guilty conscience, why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?

I am ninety. Or ninety-three. One or the other.

Is where you're from the place you're leaving or where you have roots?

The whole thing's illusion, [Jacob], and there's nothing wrong with that. It's what people want from us. It's what they expect.

I'm truly grateful for my microwave, which allows me to easily clarify butter, steam vegetables, and - when I am really lazy - feed my three kids in less than five minutes.

Dear God. Not only am I unemployed and homeless, but I also have a pregnant woman, bereaved dog, elephant, and eleven horses to take care of.

I just can't. I'm married. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.

But it all zipped by. One minute Marlena and I were up to our eyeballs, and the next thing we knew the kids were borrowing the car and fleeing the coop for college. And now, here I am. In my nineties and alone.

i'm afraid to breathe in case i break the spell

Even when I look straight into the milky blue eyes I can't find myself any more. When did I stop being me?