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“In my hand sat three dime-store lemon drops---the bright yellow candy shaped like lemons and sanded on the outside with sugar. The kind of candy grandmas kept in jars for years because no one ever eats them. "Oh...thank you." I glanced up at her, trying to hide my surprise. What a strange gift. "They're not what you think." Aunt Gert sat down in the opposite chair. She met my eyes, her own gaze intent. "These are special. They can show you the life you could have had. They can show you your true path.”

Quote by Rachel Linden

Book:The Magic of Lemon Drop Pie
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The Magic of Lemon Drop Pie

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Rachel Linden

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“It tasted different from the candies of my youth, not the standard fake lemon flavor but a brighter, more... puckery flavor. Like real lemonade. It reminded me of my mom, of how her hands always smelled. Perhaps these drops really did contain a little bit of kitchen magic. This thought made me smile. I popped the candy in my mouth and got back into bed, then lay there staring up at the ceiling of my tiny dormer room, sucking on the hard ball, waiting for it to dissolve so I could go to sleep. It was the best lemon drop I'd ever had, the flavor just straddling sour and sweet. It tasted of bright July afternoons, of lemonade stands and paper cups and crunching ice cubes, of wading in the frigid water of Puget Sound, of laughter and a fizzle of joy in my chest for no reason at all.”

FlavorLemonadeLemon Drops
Book:The Magic of Lemon Drop Pie
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“On the plate was a tall, glistening slice of lemon meringue pie, vivid yellow and fluffy white. He pulled up a chair opposite me and straddled it backward, eagerly digging his fork into the tremulous tower of meringue. "You know I dream about this slice of pie all week long, right?" he said, taking a big bite. "And me. You also dream about me," I teased him. He raised an eyebrow. "Of course I dream about you... giving me this pie." I rolled my eyes at him, and he grinned, mouth full of pie. Every Saturday I made two lemon meringue pies and served them to the first lucky handful of customers through the doors of our flagship Tampa location. The last piece of pie I always saved for Rory. I'd modified my mom's now-not-so-secret recipe, adding an element all my own---a lemon drop melted into the lemon-sugar mixture. I wasn't convinced it changed the taste that much, but Rory said it was the best pie he'd ever had. He swore the lemon drop added a touch of kitchen magic, but I knew better. It wasn't magic at all. It was revelation.”

RevelationLemon DropsLemon Pie
Book:The Magic of Lemon Drop Pie
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“By [patriarchy] I mean to imply not simply the tracing of descent through the father, (...) but any kind of group organization in which males hold dominant power and determine what part females shall and shall not play, and in which capabilities assigned to women are relegated generally to the mystical and aesthetic and excluded from the practical and political realms. (...) At the core of patriarchy is the individual family unit with its division of roles, its values of (...) unpaid domestic services of the wife, obedience to authority, judgment and punishment for disobedience, Within this family children learn the characters, sexual and otherwise, that they are to assume, in their turn, as adults. (...) The sacreness of the family in the patriarchy -sacred in the sense that it is heresy to question its ultimate value- relieves the titular head of it from any real necessity to justify his behavior.”

FamilyPatriarchyPatriarchal SocietyMale Dominated SocietyMale Female Roles
Book:On Lies, Secrets, and Silence. Selected Prose 1966-1978
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“Seeing your past - or a person from your - can for me at least be physically painful. I'm overwhelmed by a melancholic ache - and I want the past back, not matter the cost. It doesn't matter that it won't come back; that it never even actually existed as I remember it - I want it back. I want things to be like they were, or like I remember them having been: Whole. But she doesn't remind me of the past, for some reason, she feels present tense”

John GreenTurtles All The Way DownDavis PickettPage 187 188
Book:Turtles All the Way Down
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