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Quote by Elena Levon

“In 2024 I proudly joined the 'Women over 40' club, somehow arriving without coloring my hair, getting botox, fillers or plastic surgery. In today’s predominantly 'plastic cookie-cutter' culture, that’s a beautiful and rebellious statement— one celebrating authenticity and humanity in its purest form. Living long enough to earn wrinkles, grey hair and deal with an aging body is a privilege not all of us are granted. That is why I will always wear my age with gratitude and fierce passion.”

Quote by Elena Levon

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Elena Levon

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“Maggie looked like the sunshine main character of every story. Her curls were naturally beautiful and alluring, while mine were frayed and resembled a lion’s mane on a bad day—at least they did at that moment. Her eyes were pools of liquid brown like honey, mine were… seaweed green. Her dresses were pastels and creams, mine were the darker shades. She wore pointed flaps with straps, I lived in my leather boots and embroidered socks. Even in that moment, Maggie wore an orange dress tied in a loose bow across her chest. I wore my mauve one with a brown corset embroidered with flowers. Cute, yes, but two different people. If someone came in searching for a lost princess, I’d believe them if they told Maggie it was her.”

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“My mother is soil and rain, clay, ash, sand, sun and moonlight. My mother is a weeping willow— strong, daring, dripping. My mother is oceans so salty and wild she can consume whole cities— but, mostly, she chooses to be calm turquoise, washing softly over toes in sand. She is vast— some places un-navigated. She is offering, felt without words, sacred, and restful. She grows life. —mother/Mother Earth”

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“The river loved to tell everybody (everybody being the sky, the wind, the few trees that grew around there, birds, deer and even the stars if you can believe that) what a great river it was. "I come roaring from the earth and return roaring to the earth. I am the master of my waters. I am the mother and father of myself. I don't need a single drop of rain. Look at my smooth strong white muscles. I am my own future!”

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Book:Revenge of the Lawn / The Abortion / So the Wind Won't Blow it All Away
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“Tate couldn't stop staring. She must be thirteen or fourteen, he thought. But even at that age, she had the most striking face he'd ever seen. Here large eyes nearly black, her nose slender over shapely lips, painted her in an exotic light. She was tall, thin, giving her a fragile, lithesome look as though molded wild by the wind. Yet young, strapping muscles showed through with quiet power.”

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Book:Where the Crawdads Sing
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“Even in her dark bombazine dress, as high-necked and pristine as a nun's habit, Larissa Crossland possessed a soft, elegant beauty. With her dark sable hair always seeming on the verge of tumbling from its pins, and sultry pale green eyes, she was original and striking. However, her looks generated little heat. She was often admired but never pursued... never flirted with or desired. Perhaps it was the way she used cheerfulness like a weapon, if such a thing were possible, keeping everyone at a distance. It seemed to many in the town of Market Hill that Lara was an almost saintly figure. A woman with her looks and position could have managed to snare a second husband, yet she had chosen to stay here and involve herself in charitable works. She was unfailingly gentle and compassionate, and her generosity extended to nobleman and beggar alike. Young had never heard Lady Hawksworth utter an unkind word about anyone, not the husband who had virtually abandoned her nor the relatives who treated her with contemptible stinginess.”

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Book:Stranger in My Arms
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