Quotes from Jojo Moyes

Know that you hold my heart, my hopes, in your hands.

Sometimes life is a series of obstacles, a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes, she realizes suddenly, it is simply a matter of blind faith.

It is important not to turn the dead into saints. Nobody can walk in the shadow of a saint.

Too many people follow their own happiness without a thought for the damage they leave in their wake.

We are all part of some great cycle, some pattern that it was only God's purpose to understand.

I want him to live if HE wants to live. If he doesn't, then by forcing him to carry on, you, me..... we become just another shitty bunch of people taking away his choices.

I'm not going to try and change your mind." "If you're here, you accept it's my choice. This is the first thing I've been in control of since the accident." "I know." And there it was. He knew it, and I knew it. There was nothing left for me to do. Do you know how hard it is to say nothing ? When every atom of you strains to do the opposite? I just tried to be, tried to absorb the man I loved through osmosis, tried to imprint what I had left of him on myself. I did not speak...

Losing him was like having a hole shot straight through me, a painful, constant reminder, an absence I could never fill.

Just hold on. Just for a minute." "Are you all right ?" I found my gaze dropping towards his chair, afraid some part of him was pinched, or trapped, that I had got something wrong. "I'm fine. I just...I don't want to go in just yet. I just want to sit and not have to think about...I just...want to be a man who has been to a concert with a girl in a red dress. Just for a few minutes more...

There is always a way out of a situation. Might be ugly. Might leave you feeling like the earth had gone and shifted under your feet. But there is always a way around.

Somewhere in this world is a man who loves you, who understands how precious and clever and kind you are. A man who has always loved you and, to his detriment, suspects he always will.

No journey out of grief was straightforward. There would be good days and bad days.

I held him close and said nothing, all the while telling him silently that he was loved. Oh, but he was loved.

There is a whole lot more to life than winning.

I was once told by someone wise that writing is perilous as you cannot always guarantee your words will be read in the spirit in which they were written.

So this is it. You are scored on my heart, Clark. You were from the first day you walked in, with your ridiculous clothes and your bad jokes and your complete inability to ever hide a single thing you felt. You changed my life so much more than this money will ever change yours. Don't think of me too often. I don't want to think of you getting all maudlin. Just live well. Just live. Love, Will

I see all this talent, all this... this energy and brightness and... potential. Yes. Potential. And I cannot for the life of me see how you can be content to live this tiny life. This life that will take place almost entirely within a five mile radius and contain nobody who will ever surprise you or push you or show you things that will leave your head spinning and unable to sleep at night.

Astonishingly, not all girls get dressed just to please men.

You're going to feel uncomfortable in your new world for a bit. It always does feel strange to be knocked out of your comfort zone but I hope you feel exhilarated too. Live boldly. Push yourself. Don't settle. Just live well. Just live.

You're going to feel uncomfortable in your new world for a bit. It always does feel strange to be knocked out of your comfort zone . . . There is a hunger in you, Clark. A fearlessness. You just buried it, like most people do. Just live well. Just live.

The only thing Jess really cared about were those two children and letting them know they were okay. Because even if the whole world was throwing rocks at you, if you had your mother at your back, you'd be okay. Some deep-rooted part of you would know you were loved. That you deserved to be loved.

I think people get bored of grief," said Natasha. "It's like you're allowed some unspoken allotted time—six months maybe—and then they get faintly irritated that you're not 'better,' like you're being self-indulgent hanging on to your unhappiness.

How could you live each day knowing that you were simply whiling away the days until your own death?

She just wasn't sure she had yet been to the place she was homesick for.