I was beginning to understand.My grandmother's love was cold because she was afraid of things;that was why everything had to be perfect.
Alice HoffmanI didn’t want to be prideful anymore. I wanted to be as hard as and brittle as the stones I carted into the woods. Stones that could not feel or cry or see. I wished not to feel anything at all. In no time, what I wished for, I became.
Alice Hoffman