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Quote by Claire Keegan

“- 'Ah, the women are nearly always right, all the same,' he says. 'Do you know what the women have a gift for?' - 'What?' - 'Eventualities. A good woman can look far down the line and smell what's coming before a man even gets a sniff of it.”

Quote by Claire Keegan

Book:Foster

Work

Foster

This book delves into the complexities of foster care and the profound impact it has on individuals and their sense of belonging. more

Author

Claire Keegan
Claire Keegan

Claire Keegan, born in 1968, is an Irish writer known for her profound emotional depth and delicate narrative style. Her works primarily focus on the lives of ordinary people and their place in society. more

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“Saying no to people who want you to say yes, and upholding your boundaries with people who were used to having none, will at first feel terrible. Like a death. And it is a death of sorts. The death of the part of you that thinks you have to violate yourself to make it in life or be valued. You most likely will surrounded by people who are used to being accommodating or passive. At first, they feel threatened by you asserting your boundaries. This is ok. And in time they will get used to it. Just like in time you'll get used to understanding, that when people act like assholes when you say now, isn't about you. It's about them.”

“Včeraj sem šla na večerjo z Libby, prijateljico iz gimnazije. Pred kratkim je ugotovila, da je noseča, in ta misel ji ni prinesla niti trenutka veselja. Njeno razmerje prej ni bilo resno, zdaj pa je to naenkrat postalo. Začela sta iskati stanovanje, ki bi ga kupila. Ko je pripovedovala, mi je bilo jasno, da bo to past - kako jo lahko otrok z njenim novim partnerjem ujame v past, v novo življenje. Že se je okrog nje dvigala arhitektura, kot bi raslo mesto, v hitrem posnetku. Stolpnice so švigale kvišku; nov partner, nov otrok, nova primožena družina, nov dom. V njej raste otrok, zunaj nje pa se dvigajo zidovi.”

“Her true skin color was a light beige, like the skin of pencil shavings, and was soft as it was when her mother lotioned her before bed every night. Stephanie did not have the memory of those nights, but they were the reason she subconsciously pumped two servings of shea butter before she sleeps. Mothers lived in a child forever, the way their own mothers lived in them. With one mother’s kiss, a child received a recipe made by a thousand seasoned souls—a generation of love transferred in everything a woman did.”

“He really liked her—especially the way her femininity stimulated him. Alejandra was the type of girl that never let a boy entirely have her. If his lips tried to go for a random peck, she would turn the opposite way and smile a “no.” They would be seated at a restaurant and her peppy, shy voice would say, “Thank you for taking me here, but don’t expect anything.” He felt like he had her slippery heart in his hands, but never held it—instead her heart levitated, floating a few centimeters above his twitching fingertips, shining like a fickle disco ball, magnetized in the air by Alejandra’s masterfully crafted tension. She perfected this practice and learned it from her older sister. Except Alejandra felt that she was not as intelligent or gorgeous as other women, and that this prowess was all she had.”