...dreadful birds, dressed in red with breasts of silver buttons, and cocked heads and sharp mouths, looking for guilt like berries on a bush.

If I believed everything everyone had ever told me about my family I'd be a sight more miserable than I am now

How can I say what it was like to breathe again? I felt newborn. I staggered in the light of the world and took deep gulps of fresh sea air. It was late in the day: the wet mouth of the afternoon was full on my face. My soul blossomed in that brief moment as they led me out of doors. I fell, my skirts in the mud, and I turned my face upwards as if in prayer. I could have wept from the relief of light.

...dreadful birds, dressed in red with breasts of silver buttons, and cocked heads and sharp mouths, looking for guilt like berries on a bush.

It’s not fair. People claim to know you through the things you’ve done, and not by sitting down and listening to you speak for yourself.

I first heard the story of Agnes Magnusdottir when I was an exchange student in the north of Iceland.

The treachery of a friend is worse than that of a foe.