The relationship with the words someone uses is more intimate and integrated than just a quick read and a blurb can ever be. This intimacy - the words on the page being sent back and forth from engaged editor to open author - is unique in my experience.
Alice SeboldOne thing about failing repeatedly: If you're still doing it after you've failed that much, you really mean it.
Alice SeboldHow could it be that you could love someone so much and keep it secret from yourself as you woke daily so far from home?
Alice SeboldMurderers are not monsters, they're men. And that's the most frightening thing about them.
Alice SeboldYou look invincible,' my mother said one night. I loved these times, when we seemed to feel the same thing. I turned to her, wrapped in my thin gown, and said: I am.
Alice SeboldMy father had not been outside the house except to drive back and forth to work or sit out in the backyard, for months, nor had he seen his neighbors. Now he looked at them, from face to face, until he realized I had been loved by people he didn't even recognize. His heart filled up, warm again as it had not been in what seemed so long to him- save small forgotten moments with Buckley, the accidents of love that happened with his son. ~pgs 209-210; Buckley, Lindsey and Jack on Susie
Alice Sebold