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Roseanna M. White Biography

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“That's something every islander knows--there's always going to be another hurricane. Another storm. Everything buried will surface again, and everything you thought would last forever will come down eventually. But you rebuild. You dredge. You keep moving, keep adding new. That's how we go on living.”

“She needed months, years, decades, centuries--or at the very least, however much of those God granted them. Together, though. Only, always together. Never apart again, they'd sworn that first night as they cried together over years and milestones lost, as they kissed away the thought of all those lonely days and nights, as they loved away the emptiness.”

“I think....I could spend the rest of my life here and never miss the mainland for a moment." Only when [Libby] spoke the words did she realize how true they were. Perhaps it was a strange sentiment, given how much of the week had been spent indoors hiding from the rain. But every time she'd stepped outside, be it to the beach or into charming little Hugh Town, or onto the boat that had ferried them from St. Mary's to Tresco this morning, that same sense of contentment had overtaken her.”

“And after the repentance, dearover, comes the truly hard part—you must learn how to let the shame go. It has its purpose, a right and needful one. It can take us to life and repentance and return us to God. But if we’re not careful, it can just as easily carry us away and drown us.… Guard against that. But only after you are once again clean.” Mam dipped her head down to catch Senara’s gaze. “Aye? You must take it to the Lord, Senara. And then let Him truly take it from you.”

“It helped to realize that the words of prayers… can do their work in us even when we’re too numb to realize it. Because those words are meant to remind us of how we should be inclining our hearts. And those actions—they are God working, not us. Whether we feel it or not, whether we are aware of it or not, He’s there. He’s present. He’s pouring out His grace on us.”

“Read novels, because they will put you in someone else’s skin. Read poetry, because it will give wings to your soul. Read science, because it will show you what’s possible. Read politics, because it will teach you how strongly people care about how their fellow men are treated, wherever they stand on what the best way is. . . . Read things you hate and things you love and things you never thought you’d understand. And never, never accept the excuse that you’re not strong enough to handle it if you read something that offends you. You are. You’re strong enough to be offended and then try to understand why. You’re strong enough to grant that someone can be different and still be worthy of dignity. And if you aren’t? . . . Then read more, until you are (pp. 315-316).”

“He knows your name. Not Libby, not Elizabeth Sinclair. Your true name, the one at the heart of you that has never been spoken. He knows you, and He calls you by it. You, in all your uniqueness. You, in all that makes you different from others. You, in all that you have in common with them. He knows you, and He calls you by name. He knows how you fit into this world.”