Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Laura McBride

Quote by Laura McBride

“Sometimes it’s not that you don’t want help. It’s that you can’t bear to be offered help that just keeps turning out not to be enough after all.”

Quote by Laura McBride

Author

Laura McBride

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Laura McBride. more

You May Also Like

“Though he [Levin] had imagined his ideas about family life to be most exact, he, like all men, had involuntarily pictured it to himself as merely the enjoyment of love––which nothing should be allowed to hinder and from which one should not be distracted even by petty cares. He should, he thought, do his work, and rest from it in the joys of love. She should be loved––and that was all. But, like all men, he forgot that she too must work; and was surprised how she, the poetic, charming Kitty, could, during the very first weeks and even in the first days of married life, think, remember, and fuss about table-cloths, furniture, spare-room mattresses, a tray, the cook, the dinner, and so forth.”

“Serena maintains today that as George grew older he also grew out of his mind. Many men do, in my experience. Life does not come up to their expectations: they grow older, and disappointed. At fifty they realise others have passed them by, made more money, won more respect. Their sexual drive fades and the self-esteem that goes with it. They take to litigation and shake their fists at other drivers.”

“Time is not a straight line. It is a conversation between memory and imagination." When we listen closely, the past whispers through the choices we make, and the future leans in to hear our reply. Every act of kindness sends a ripple through unseen moments. Every thought and every word become architecture for a world not yet built. Perhaps the woman from tomorrow is simply the echo of who we become when we live wisely today, a reminder that destiny is not written by clocks, but by the courage to stay awake in the story we are still writing...”

“It’s all so messed up. I think what it is, is that when I was young, my mother was her best version of herself. And here I am, now, a shitty grown-up, and messing it all up, and a disappointment. What imperfect carriers of love we are, and what imperfect givers. That the reasons we can care for one another can have nothing to do with the person cared for. That it has only to do with who we were around that person—what we felt about that person. Here’s the fear: she gave to us, and we took from her, until she disappeared.”