Quotes from Lisa Jewell

I feel – Jesus. I feel like I don't know you, Rachel. I feel like I married a fucking stranger.

His mum, like him, had no friends. It was as if they could tell, he thought, they could tell she wasn't ever going to be one of them. She was always going to be trying, never just being.

You find that with children who've shared a childhood trauma: it's like a fine wire that runs between you; you can feel the tug on it from time to time.

It's very odd, looking back, how accepting children can be of the oddest scenarios.

want to get away from these two, now. Their energy is so toxic, I'm virtually choking on it. And I've had enough of this guy continuously banging on my phone screen with his big meaty finger.

They weren't bad books, Phin countered patiently. They were books that you didn't enjoy. It's not the same thing at all. The only bad books are books that are so badly written that no one will publish them. Any book that has been published is going to be a 'good book' for someone

Honestly? I think I was bored, Roxy. I think I was bored and I was having problems with my husband, I was filled with anger and resentment, with this low-level rage, and your mum came along with her stories that made my problems pale in comparison and I think it just stopped me focusing on the shit in my own life. That's all it was. A distraction.

Just that. What? What did it mean? What did any of it mean? Did it mean he was sorry? Did it mean she should forgive him? Or that he had forgiven her? Who was right? Who was wrong?

you. We didn't have sex for the last ten days of our holiday, you said you thought you'd married a fucking stranger, and now you're acting like none of that ever happened. You're … you're … offering me wine and … and stirring things. I just don't understand. I don't understand what's happening

phone calls to make. Terrible phone calls.

Yes. I do. And I am. You can be happily married and a feminist.' 'I don't think so. I think that you can only be a feminist if you're single.' 'Oh. That's an interesting counterpoint. Can you elaborate?' 'I shouldn't need to, Alix. You should understand what I'm saying.

Well, like I say. That is your interpretation of events. I just recall a girl who was disappointed and pissed off because she wasn't going to get to do the things she wanted to do, and a brand-new husband left feeling a little inadequate and scared that the girl would rather leave him and find someone who did

We are setting ourselves free from these broken bodies, from this despicable world, from pain and disappointment.

She told us all these lies about her, that she used to be a prostitute, brought tricks into the house, that she used to beat her and starve her and of course we were small so we believed her. But then our dad told us it wasn't true, that Mum was just jealous of Grandma because she'd been with Dad before her.

That knife edge of time that could end with a laugh and a hug or a broken finger ir a Chinese burn.

You. You and your fucking "tie me up" bullshit. You and your other guys. Guys who've done that to you. Every time I shut my eyes, there they are. Lined up. And I can't, I cannot get them out of my head, Rachel. You put them there. Bunch of fucking creeps.

I had a girlfriend there. Mathilde. She was French. Quite pretty. We kissed a few times and maybe if my parents hadn't dragged me away by the scruff of my neck at that precise moment and dropped me down in the next place, maybe I'd have had a chance to develop that normality, become a guy with a core and a soul.

Yes, I see, Mr Worsley. The love that shall not speak its name." "Well, yes, something like that. Something illicit, dangerous, yet also something beautiful, something... grand. A grand love, one that has brought both joy and heartache. Yes?

The point is … you. You're the point. I thought I knew you. I thought I knew who you were. That golden girl in the pharmacy. That girl with the lustre, the class, the elegance. The girl who'd been waiting for her prince.

And it was Dad who helped monetise it all, got me on Glitch, managed my subscriptions, opened my bank accounts. He did all of that for me. He was the one who made me famous.

of walking about with a shaved head, he walked past Whackadoo. He saw neither Romola nor Joey, but it didn't matter. Just the very act of allowing himself to be seen in this new and somewhat alarming guise was exciting

mean, Jesus Christ, when you saw me in the pharmacy that first time, I was a total mess. I had a hangover, and I was waiting for the morning-after pill, for God's sake.

What you were getting into?' 'Yeah. Damaged goods.' Rachel felt a punch to the back of her gut at these words and the burn of bile at the base of her throat. 'I'm sorry?' 'Yeah. I guess I was duped by the English accent. Fooled into thinking it somehow equated with class. Yet again.

never, ever told you I was classy. Not ever. I fucked you on our first date. What on earth made you think I was classy?