“From across her husband's open grave I had thought she exuded a certain foxy mystique, but now, to my disappointment, she looked just like every other mother I knew.” MotherDisappointmentMotherhood Book:Setting Free the Kites Source: Setting Free the Kites
“When he left us, he stole all the words.” DeathLossGriefAbandonment Book:Setting Free the Kites Source: Setting Free the Kites
“I need to confront my loss, not run away from it. I wanted to wade in with my eyes open and all my senses alert. I wanted to register everything, from the giant waves of sorrow to the inkiest ripples of remorse. I didn't want to miss any of it.” LossSorrowRemorse Book:Setting Free the Kites Source: Setting Free the Kites
“He remembered his mother once telling him that there were more than three hundred types of cheese made in France. Soured had solemnly replied that one day he would go there and try every one. There were worse reasons to choose a place to live” FranceCheesePlace To Live Book:The Paris Hours Source: The Paris Hours
“I suppose we should send someone to make sure the queen does not come to the wall also,” the king jested. “I would say that it is too late for that, my lord,” a feminine voice answered from the group gathered in the courtyard. They all turned to find the queen dressed in chain mail and wearing a conical helmet on her head.” FantasyHumourKingQueenDragonSorcererHeartstone Book:Under the Dragon's Claw Source: Under the Dragon's Claw
“This man's music has become part of Souren's mornings, as essential as the sun rising over the rooftops of the city. The familiar melody offers him a moment of quiet grace, and this gives him strength for the day ahead. The pianist knows nothing of this, of course. He plays only for himself. Souren wonders how the arc of the man's own days is changed by creating such beauty each morning. He watches as the pianist makes his lonely way down the street. The man looks tired, defeated. He does not play for joy, thinks Souren. He plays for survival.” Creating ArtPiano Quote Book:The Paris Hours Source: The Paris Hours
“The women would not be looking at him like this if he were carrying lilies, reflects Jean-Paul. Flowers have there own silent vocabulary. There are blooms for love, for friendship, for sorrow, and for joy. He inspect the roses he is carrying. Long-stemmed and elegant, they have been grown, selected, arranged, and purchased for a single, unambiguous purpose: to seduce.” Language Of Flowers Book:The Paris Hours Source: The Paris Hours