“All the while, she understood that nothing could save her from the emptiness of the years that still had to be lived. Days passed, and weeks, and no one said her name.” — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“All the while, she understood that nothing could save her from the emptiness of the years that still had to be lived. Days passed,… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“It was one of those golden July afternoons stolen from spring, and they sat outside in T-shirts drinking beer.” — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“George noticed her feet again. They were nuggety and rectangular, like a young child’s feet—even the sparkly turquoise nail polish belonged to a child.… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“The past was not always past enough here. It was like living in a house acquired for its clean angles and gleaming appliances, and… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“She had almost reached the cafe before Céleste identified Pippa, imposterish without beret and lampshade dress, her iPod shining through her pocket. At the… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“We believe the explanation we hear last. It's one of the ways in which narrative influences our perception of truth. We crave finality, and… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“people suffer much more from the promises they don’t make than the ones they can’t keep” — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“He had been a shy, affectionate child to whom Céleste fed Milo straight from the tin. Sometimes she tortured him, singing, ‘Dominiquenique-nique…’ while slitting… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“Predictably, the national broadcaster—a viper’s nest of socialists, tree-huggers and ugly, barren females—had seized on the survey, exhuming one of its bleeding-heart ideologues to… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“George moved from one group of people he didn’t know to another, trying to get out of the draught. The girls didn’t seem to… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
“In Rome, Matt had told her, ‘I knew that if I kept up my playing, we would have a baby.’ That was what music… — Michelle de Kretser Copy Share Image
