“I still remember the winter sky that evening. Whenever I worked in my sea garden and I saw a sunset like that, I'd think back to Bantham Beach. It was as if the sun had been torn open. Everything was scarlet. The clouds were flames, so wild and vibrant that blue didn't look like a color anymore. The sea and land served as a mirror. The ribbed sand was on fire. So were the stones and maroon rock pools. The pink crests of the waves. The burning hump of Burgh Island.” WaterSeaSkyLandCloudsBeachSandSunsetWaves Book:The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy Source: The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy
“... He went under the stars, and the tender light of the moon, when it hung like an eyelash and the tree trunks shone like bones. He walked through wind and weather, and beneath sun-bleached skies. It seemed to Harold that he had been waiting all his life to walk. He no longer knew how far he had come, but only that he was going forward. The pale Cotswold stone became the red brick of Warwickshire, and the land flattened into middle England. Harold reached his hand to his mouth to brush away a fly, and felt a beard growing in thick tufts. Queenie would live. He knew it.” HandsLightStarsFeltWaitingWalksSunGrowingTreeSkyLandMiddleWindMoonMouthsRedStonesEnglandBonesWeatherThickPaleHungBrushesBricksBeardTrunksEyelashesTree Trunks Author:Rachel Joyce
“He understood that in walking to atone for the mistakes he had made, it was his journey to accept the strangeness of others. As a passerby, he was in a place where everything, not only the land, was open. People would feel free to talk, and he was free to listen. To carry a little of them as he went.” PeopleFeelsLittlesMadeMistakeAcceptingJourneyLandWalkingUnderstoodMade ItStrangenessPasserby Author:Rachel Joyce
“He must have driven this way countless times, and yet he had no memory of the scenery. He must have been so caught up in the day's agenda, and arriving punctually at their destination, that the land beyond the car had been no more than a wash of one green, and a backdrop of one hill. Life was very different when you walked through it.” WayHas BeensDifferentMemoriesLandCarGreenCaughtDrivenHillsAgendasDestinationCaught UpSceneryArrivingBackdropNo Memory Author:Rachel Joyce
“There was no escaping what he had realized as he fought for warmth in the night. With or without him,the moon and the wind would go on, rising and falling. The land would keep stretching ahead until it hit the sea. People would keep dying. It made no difference if Harold walked, or trembled, or stayed at home.” PeopleIfsMadeHomeNightFallDifferencesSeaLandDyingWindGoes OnMoonRisingWarmthStretchingEscaping Author:Rachel Joyce
