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Quote by Daisy Johnson

“This year something else is the terror. The road edging away and then dropping from sight, the judder judder judder as we move from tarmac to dirt. Is Mum crying? I don’t know. Should we ask? No answer to that and, anyway, the house is there now and no time to go back or try again or do things over. This the year we are houses, lights on in every window, doors that won’t quite shut. When one of us speaks we both feel the words moving on our tongues. When one of us eats we both feel the food slipping down our gullets. It would have surprised neither of us to have found, slit open, that we shared organs, that one’s lungs breathed for the both, that a single heart beat a doubling, feverish pulse.”

Quote by Daisy Johnson

Book:Sisters

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Sisters

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Daisy Johnson

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“What's wrong between you two?' she said. 'You used to be like peas in a pod.' I thought about everything I might say, then chose the simplest. 'We're different.' Cate scoffed at that. 'So are ink and paper, but they get along very well indeed.' 'She's mad at me,' I said. 'Not mad,' Esther said. 'She thinks I'm the reason our daddy got hurt.' Cate scoffed again. 'You're a girl. You're not a tree.' 'She was in the way,' Esther said. Cate shook her head. 'Blame comes from the Greek for 'curse.' That's the root of it. A curse. Against the sacred. Which is what sisters are. Or should be. To each other.' She glared at us both. 'Sacred.”

“Being Tully’s sister required a very specific skill set. You had to be an animated conversationalist (Tully was easily bored) but also a calming influence. You had to be fully invested in whatever she was talking about but be prepared for the fact that Tully would lose interest five minutes later. You had to love her with your whole heart but do so from arm’s length. Getting close to her was like trying to get close to a helicopter—you always ended up windswept and breathless…and occasionally you lost your head.”

“Grete wore caution like a crown. Although Ash and Grete were both born from the same Mapa and Papal, the sisters were antipodean enchantresses. To Ash the Mysteries had dealt passion, grit and tireless intent, which she carried like a loaded quiver on her strong, lithe frame. Grete’s appeal was no less, but instead came by way of caution, calm and censure – an attractive safe harbour expressed in her soft edges and soft speech. Both young women had thick dark hair and the blessing of symmetry on their side. Both could sneak.”