I had begun to write novels because of a fierce, self-serving impulse in my own heart. I had not considered the potential in a book for felt communion, the bright largesse of intimately participating in the lives of other people. — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share Image
In recent years my understanding of God had evolved into increasingly remote abstractions. I'd come to think of God in terms like Divine Reality,… — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
we need not avoid our active lives, but simply bring to them a new vision and shift of gravity. for in the center we… — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
“The mermaids came to me finally, in the pink hours of my life. They are my consolation. For them I dove with arms outstretched,… — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
“The bag contained a pair of white cotton gloves stained the color of age.” — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
I eventually found that the soul is more than an immortal commodity to win and save. It is the repository of the inner divine,… — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
“Readiness for dying arrives by attending the smallest moment and finding the eternal inside of it.” — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
“I sat at her desk and turned one page after another, staring at what looked like bits and pieces of black lace laid cross… — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
The translucence that comes when life hardens into a bead of such cruel perfection you see it with the purest clarity. Everything suddenly there--life… — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
“afflicted with the worst female curse on earth, the need to mold myself to expectations.” — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
“Her forbidden bath all those months ago still hung leaden between us, though Handful didn't seem the least bit ashamed by my discovery of… — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
“Why should God’s perfection be based on having an unchanging nature?” I asked. “Isn’t flexibility more perfect than stasis?” — Sue Monk Kidd Copy Share
