“I know the names of the books - their old covers bleached to palest greens or pinks by the endless cycle of summers - lined up on the shelf.” — Harriet Lane Copy Share Image
“I found the final plot twist unsatisfying, as plot twists often are: nothing like life, which - it seems to me - turns less… — Harriet Lane Copy Share Image
“I know the names of the books - their old covers bleached to palest greens or pinks by the endless cycle of summers -… — Harriet Lane Copy Share Image
“I've thought about the pictures often; what they show or, more accurately, don't show. Remembering what was happening elsewhere: in the distance, or behind… — Harriet Lane Copy Share Image
“I turn my back and look out to sea, the sun so low and molten that my eyes fill with tears, and yet I… — Harriet Lane Copy Share Image
“Maybe it's not really lying if you barely know you're doing it. It should be true. It's the way it should be, in an… — Harriet Lane Copy Share Image
“At the edge, I start to imagine the thing that isn't being directly looked at, the vague presence of something: a house, a wall,… — Harriet Lane Copy Share Image
