Quotes from Liane Moriarty

This is how you lived with a terrible secret. You just did it. You pretend everything was fine. You ingored the deep, cramplike pain in your stomach. You somehow anesthetized yourself so that nothing felt that bad, but nothing felt good either.

Now she was stuck in the pool because she didn't want to get out in front of him. She would have thought she was too old to worry about her body being observed and judged in a swimsuit, but apparently this neurosis began at twelve years old and never ended.

Good for you. Never forgive. Never forget. That's my motto.

Aunt Connie killing the Munros is manifestly wrong. It was Alice.

too young and happy to know that love wasn't enough; too young to know all the ways that life could break you. Their son's death broke her. Maybe a son's death broke any mother.

was nervous, when she didn't

He would die for his daughter. But sometimes he wouldn't pick up the phone for her.

It was extraordinary how tumultuous historical moments could be replayed right here in this ordinary little moment as she drove down the Pacific Highway

The drama of her delivery was so deliberately hyperbolic it wasn't even funny. It should have been funny, yet it wasn't.

Nico said there were good floorboards waiting beneath the vile carpet in the house they'd just bought. Amazing to think something beautiful could lie beneath the ugliness and all you had to do was peel it away.

Sam always said she was overly sensitive to sounds because she was a musician, but she didn't think that was true; he was just astonishingly insensitive to them.

She needed to find someone who would let her say all sorts of horrible, bitchy things and not judge her for it or pass them on.

Never forgive. Never forget. That's my motto.

the human aspiration to fly." "It's really lovely," said Frances.

it got so heavy she had to turn up the radio and put the wipers on fast, panicky mode.

You were sad and hurt. Maybe your heart was broken, but you weren't broken

Excuse me, Bonnie," said Madeline. "I need to go collect my husband. He seems to be in a very animated conversation with an adulterer. I don't want him picking up any ideas.

Compulsion: one of those solid respectable psychological-sounding words to nicely wrap the truth: she was as mad as a hatter, as crazy as a bedbug. Oh,

Oh, Pandora. Where's your willpower? You were told not to open that box, you snoopy girl, you typical woman with your insatiable curiosity; now look what you've gone and done. When for one thing it was a jar, not a box, and for another—how many times does she have to say it?—nobody said a word about not opening it!

The problem was that every item on her list was so nebulous. Impossible to pin down. She remembered the days when her worries were always related to money and solutions could be calculated. To

Everyone seemed to be deliberately not looking at her, the way people did when you had food in your teeth and they didn't want to tell you, so they kept trying not to see.

Her life has so much joy. That was an actual verifiable fact.

Joy preferred not to embarrass Steffi by offering her dog food as Steffi didn't appear to know she was a dog. She chatted at length with Joy each morning after breakfast, making strange, elongated whining sounds that Joy knew were her sadly unintelligible attempts at English. The one time they'd taken her to the local dog park, Steffi had been appalled and sat at their feet with an expression of frozen hauteur on her face, as if she were a society lady at McDonald's.

Bugger niceness. It was overrated.