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Stewart O'Nan

Stewart O'Nan Books

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Evensong

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Henry, Himself

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West of Sunset

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City of Secrets

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Emily, Alone

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Related Quotes

“On the table in the center of the room stood a fake Christmas tree, and as she chose a seat in the corner so she could plug in her phone, she remembered it was Maggie Woodwell who'd hoped Ned would make it through Christmas for the sake of their kids. She didn't want his passing to ruin the holiday forever, a fear Kitzi understood, but, cruel as it was, maybe because she'd almost lost Martin, she'd come to accept that death shadowed every day. She'd once thought she'd never get used to it, yet how many times had she waited like this while her friends said their final goodbyes? It was her specialty, it seemed.”

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Book:Evensong
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“You're unsure what you think of him, a fact you pride yourself on. It defines you, this willingness to hear all sides, love everyone. You've stopped believing in evil. Is that a sin? You know what your mother would say, but justice needs to be fair-handed, the dead deserve your compassion. It's your job to understand, to forgive, not simply your custom.”

LoveEvilUnderstandingCompassionDutyForgivenessFairnessOpen MindednessShades Of GraySeeing Both Sides
Book:A Prayer for the Dying
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“The single dinner plate, the silent house, the tumbler in the sink--this was how it would be if he lost her. His mother had gone quickly, from liver cancer, the mass discovered too late. He thought of his father alone in his condo, crossing off days on the calendar like a prisoner. He'd survived her by thirteen years, yet every time Henry saw him, he quoted her as if they'd just spoken. Henry could picture himself doing the same to the children. He already lived too much in his memory.”

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Book:Henry, Himself
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“There was a lot about Kim and J.P. he didn't get.... he was confused by their lack of romance. As a father, he was at times grateful for that missing intensity, but as a man who liked to surprise his wife with flowers, it baffled him. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but to him a couple meant a strong bond, with positive and negative charges constantly arcing between them. He'd never seen Kim and J.P. kiss, let alone argue.”

LoveRomancePassionIntensitySparksCouplesBond
Book:Songs for the Missing
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“It doesn't seem enough, and as he starts them off, you want to call after him, tell him how you too question the ways of faith, the injustice, the never-ending losses, that it stuns you too, that you still grieve for Mrs. Goetz and Arnie and Eric Soderholm just as their families do, though everyone else seems to have forgotten. Lydia Flynn, the tramp behind Meyer's, the men in the swamps of Kentucky. If a sparrow fall, you want to say, it is not lost. I will remember. We are all saved.”

DeathFaithJusticeLossGriefInjusticeMourningUnfairness
Book:A Prayer for the Dying
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“The accusation rankled. She would never cheat. He and his fellow Fox News zombies were the cheaters, gerrymandering districts and fixing the Supreme Court to do the bidding of the minority, storming the Capitol when they lost. She took pride in treating everyone who voted--Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, Green, or Independent--equally. She cared about fairness and representation. He didn't care about any of that. All he cared about was winning. Now she did too, viciously, and it felt like a loss.”

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Book:Evensong
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“He didn't like to fly--the noise and vibration gave him a headache--but, as with anything new, he was excited by the strangeness of it. The disjuncture intrigued him: stepping through a door in one place, sitting still for a few hours, then stepping out a thousand miles away. It seemed to him a very American mode of travel, even more so than the car, not simply going farther faster, but eliminating any temporal experience of the journey, skipping over whole sections of the country, the sole focus on arriving, with the help of expensive and arcane technologies, at one's destination, except of course, when one didn't--a thought brought on by his own instinctive disbelief and the bumpiness of the flight.”

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Book:West of Sunset
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“No one told her Trader Joe's sold Advent calendars for cats. She found out on her own, rolling her card down the pet food aisle. She saw the bingo-like jumble of numbers on the box and stopped, her face betraying first confusion and concern and then honest astonishment. The picture on the front was a Christmas tree of cats. Behind each cardboard door waited salmon and dried seaweed treats in holiday shapes. It made absolutely no sense, and she knew she had to buy one for Oscar.”

TreatsConsumerismCatsAdventPetsAdvent CalendarsTrader Joe S
Book:Evensong
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