Quotes from Kristin Hannah

What was the right thing for a mother to say to her nearly grown daughter about the ugliness in the world? How could she be honest?

I know. I know. Britney Spears is the Antichrist. Got it.

was the dream that had brought her here and she passed it on to me. But, it was a lie. For people like us, anyway.

se dio cuenta de que el paisaje del alma de una mujer podía cambiar con la misma velocidad que un mundo en guerra.

warrior believes in an end she can't see and fights for it. A warrior never gives up. A warrior fights for those weaker than herself. It sounds like motherhood to me.

Next Wednesday she'd be giving her update to representatives of local newspapers, with smaller circulations than most high schools, and—if she was lucky—some low-rent stringer for the tabloids.

What she thought, over and over again, was if only.

They say people who don't heed history are doomed to repeat it.

Ha! Bitterness would do you good. All that smiling and pretending of yours would give me hives.

Paris," Vianne said, trying to find comfort in the familiar

Everywhere she looked, she saw the rewards of her careful planning and judicious pruning. The beds were a riot of glorious color, with sugary pink saucer-sized roses, ruffled yellow peonies, spiked purple delphinium. The deep green English boxwood she'd taken such time with was well on its way to becoming the bones of the garden.

Cuando sus labios la rozaron, todo cambió, o cambió Isabelle. Una ola de deseo la recorrió, le cortó la respiración. Se sintió perdida y encontrada en sus brazos, rota y vuelta a unir. Las palabras «te quiero» la quemaban por dentro, desesperadas por ser pronunciadas en voz alta. Pero todavía ansiaba más oír esas palabras. Quería que le dijeran, solo por una vez, que era amada.

She heard the name. At first it meant nothing to her, just another sound. Then she remembered. She'd been Juliette. And Isabelle before that. And the Nightingale. Not just F-5491.

AFTER TEN HOURS OF hard labor beneath a hot sun, Elsa climbed down from the truck. She had her work chit in one gloved hand. It wasn't worth much, but it was something. The company store charged the camp residents ten percent to convert the chit to credit, but they couldn't cash it anywhere else; if they wanted cash instead of credit, they had to pay interest. So, in point of fact, as little as they were paid, it was really even ten percent less.

He touched her face with a gentleness that made her want to cry; it felt like a good-bye, that touch, and she knew good-bye.

folks who hang on to the past miss their chance for a future.

Then, I saw tragedy in it; now I see beauty.

You know the thing about history, Elsa? It's over. Already dead and gone.

Instead, Loreda saw hobos gathered around the train depot, wearing rags, their back pockets turned inside out in what were being called Hoover flags. A shoe with holes was a Hoover shoe. Everyone knew who to blame for the Depression but not how to fix it.

Isabelle sat down beside MacLeish and leaned tiredly against him. "You're a wonder," he said in a hushed voice. "I've been told I don't make smart decisions. This may be proof of that." She shivered, whether from cold or exhaustion, she didn't know. "Dumb but brave," he said with a smile. Isabelle was grateful for the conversation. "That's me.

top. I should make you get us another one. But it took only moments

But timing mattered. With teenage girls, one had to carefully pick the moment to reach out, or you'd draw back a bloody stump where your arm had been.

There were journeys in life no one could take for you. Page 383

She closed her eyes for a moment, remembered another time when she'd been scared and felt alone, back when she'd been sick. That was the first time her grandfather had leaned down and whispered, Be brave, into her ear. And then, Or pretend to be. It's all the same.