Quotes from Sharon Cameron

History is absolutely my thing.

I think Scotland is probably my spiritual home and I love it there very, very much.

I think the past is something I have spent a lot of time thinking about, not only what is different about the past but what's the same, and what links us to the past.

The past is never really gone. It only lies in wait for you, remembered or forgotten.

I think you are very beautiful," René said, "especially when you are admiring mischief." "You must think that every time I look at you, then.

You are the variable in every equation, Mademoiselle.

It's my choice today that is the memory of tomorrow. It's my choice that determines what I will become. Not the memories of the past.

He thought she was someone who could break the pattern of history. And he was offering to break it with her.

I said, 'tart'!" she snapped. Lane's brows went up, but I merely continued to smile, choosing to assume that her answer was a reference to where the berries should go, and not to my person.

Warm sun and robin's-egg skies were inappropriate conditions for sending one's uncle to a lunatic asylum.

I was just telling your cousin I thought you were sick," she said to René. "Why, exactly, aren't you sick?" "Such a darling," René said to the room. "And so considerate of my health. You'd have me abed all day, wouldn't you, my love?" "Always," she replied slowly, "my love." Though the look she sent clearly added her preference that he be in an unconscious or perhaps a non-breathing state.

We are supposed to write the truth, for no one to see but ourselves. But how easily that truth can be twisted. Bend a little here, omit a little there, make yourself into the person you wish you were instead of the person you are. How easy to cut the truth away, to throw it in a fire, open your eyes, and have the whole world remember nothing of who you are. Nothing of what you've done. When you will not remember who you are or what you've done.

Our clients find me charming. And I find out things Maman and my uncles never could …" "Because people think you're an imbecile." "Being … how do you say, underestimated, that is never a bad thing.

It had taught me that people like to divvy up one another with names. Jew. Catholic. German. Pole. But these were the wrong names. They were the wrong dividing lines. Kindness. Cruelty. Love and hate. These were the borders that mattered.

She was the clock, a clock that had lost its key, unwinding in the dark.

I am made of my memories.

Truth can look so flimsy and feeble sometimes. It's one of the things I hold against it.

We're always living days we can never get back. So we make new ones. That's all.

She was clever, and beautiful, and hard as burnished bronze.

Daughter stealer.

You are the single most beautiful thing I have ever looked at in my life.

Because I dared.

So you carry needle and thread about in your pockets, do you?" Sophia asked. "My tailor insists.

Your maman was in my room last night." "And I was not." His tone was glum.