Here are some of my favourites.
“It wasn’t that strangers couldn’t hurt you. It was simply that the people you loved could do it so much better.”
Lisa Gardner, Touch and go
“His hands are saying that he wants to hold her. His feet are saying that he wants to chase after her. He’s probably forgotten that I’m here, beside him.”
Ai Yazawa, I’m not an angel
“He was wooing me. And I was letting him woo. I wanted the woo. I deserved the woo. I needed the wow that would surely follow the woo, but for now, the woo? It was whoa.”
Alice Clayton, Wallbanger
“It’s amazing how the things you remember forever are the things you’d rather forget and the things you desperately want to grasp onto seem to slip away like sand in the wind.”
Jessica Sorensen, The Coincidence of Callie & Kayden
“Much like when we first met, he was so self-confident and even a bit arrogant, but possessing a balance of devilishness and holiness that could fascinate those around him in an instant. Yes, even at that moment, as though he were going to an evening ball in London, he continues as gracefully as ever…to smile.”
Kaori Yuki, Godchild
“Elise rocked and rocked, taking and taking until she was deaf and blind with grace, locked in heat until what she knew of touch melted away.”
Carrie Salo, The sounding
“Nothing is louder than the silence of the missing child. It’s a silence that’s two and a half to three feet tall, and you feel it at your hip and hear it rising up from the floorboards, shouting to you from corners and crevices and the emotionless face of a doll left on the floor by the bed. It’s a silence that’s different from the one left at funerals and wakes. The silence of the dead carries with it a sense of finality; it’s a silence you know you must get used to. But the silence of a missing child is not something you want to get used to; you refuse to accept it, and so it screams at you.
The silence of the dead says, Goodbye.
The silence of the missing says, Find me.”
Dennis Lehane, Gone baby gone
Next is the most beautiful scene I’ve read this year. I couldn’t resist posting some of it here. I hope I’m allowed??
“Mr. Ryder stood in the washroom. He was standing before the mirror … his feet and chest were bare … Spread across his sleekly muscled back and down his right arm, which pulsed with lean, raw strength, was an enormous dark pink burn scar … It was hideous, horrible, the most terrible scar I had ever seen, marring his body so utterly that it looked as if he were even now consumed with flame …
… “I’m sorry,” I murmured.
He reached out and closed the door …
… I made my way back to my bedroom, quickly undressed, and lay on my bed in my slip … as I lay there, I knew he had misunderstood. When I closed my eyes, I could see the image of him burned behind my eyelids. When I opened them again, I could see nothing but him, standing before me. There was a deep knot in my stomach, bruised and painful, a deep tug of longing that would not go away. Again I saw him turn to look at me, and I knew the longing would never be gone. I was doomed to it. For there was no way to convince him that, with all his scars, the terrible truth was that he was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”
Simone St James, The haunting of Maddie Clare.