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Quote by Kristin Hannah

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On Mystic Lake

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Author

Kristin Hannah
Kristin Hannah

Kristin Hannah is an American author known for her emotionally rich novels. Her works often explore themes of family, love, and women's growth. Born on September 25, 1960, Hannah has been publishing novels since 1992, and her books have been widely popular around the world. more

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“The words roll off your tongue so smoothly that I almost don't feel the pain. Your voice has soothed me for so long that when you use that same voice to tell me we are over, I initially don't even register you are delivering bad news. It's like you, the love of my life, are standing in front of me with your sweet and sympathetic eyes as if nothing is wrong and then you pull the trigger. So unexpected that I sit there, staring at my wound, misunderstanding the events that have just occurred. "Why am I bleeding? How did this come to be? Did you really just say we ? "Oh. I see." My eyes rest on your mouth, the weapon that has fired against my heart.”

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“A photograph develops in a tray of liquid. Previously it’s been just a blank sheet of printing paper shut up in a lightproof envelope; now it has a function, an image, a certainty. We slide the photo quickly into the tray of fixer to secure that clear, vulnerable moment, to make the image harder, unchippable, solid for at least a few years. But what if you plunge it into the fixer and the chemical doesn’t work? This progress, this amorous motion you feel, might refuse to stabilize. Have you seen a picture go on relentlessly developing until its whole surface is black, its celebratory moment obliterated?”

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“What are you so worried about? What makes you think if we got together that we’d even stay together? We wouldn’t, most likely. Nothing is permanent, especially in this town. Everything is just another set, waiting to be dismantled and hauled to the dumpster. We’d hook up, have some fun for a few weeks, a few laughs, nothing wrong with that. And then we’d go out separate ways. It would end the way most things end. I’d think about you for a while. Maybe you’d think about me. I’d ache for you a little bit, the way one does when things are over, even things that aren’t meant to be. I’d get busy with my life. You’d get busy with yours. We’d say we’d keep in touch. But we never would. And when people asked, we’d say we had a thing once, you and me. One minute it was, and the next it wasn’t. It didn’t mean it wasn’t real. It just wasn’t forever. And years later maybe we’d run into each other on the street somewhere, and you’d barely remember my name. And I’d barely remember yours. I’d say to you, hey, remember how you once loved me? And you’d say sorry, not really. And I’d say yeah, me neither.”

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“He hated himself for allowing his heart to be tossed by the waves of her flicking tongue. This Earth Mother who in one moment offered limitless hope—a glorious horizon that would inspire him to perform any heroic deed she might require—before hurtling him into the hollow despair of her disdain. The goddess had chosen another! Or perhaps no one at all. What mattered was that the lovely warmth of her gaze no longer shone upon you.”

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