“We do not last, she thinks. In the end, only the stories survive.” — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“The early morning sunlight warms a patch of linoleum, and she lets her feet bathe in it while the kettle heats on the stove.” — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“You've been here before, Bell. Remember the stories you told me about wandering in the woods when you were a little girl? It scared… — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“They read. The sounds of paper between them as they turn and crease and carefully avoid touching each other.” — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“Isabel turns down Oak toward the little vintage shop at Fourth Avenue, thinking of lunch—the Chinese place in Old Town, casting around inside herself… — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“your knight in shining aroumor may just be an idiot in tin-foil.” — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“Well, he began, since we're talking about books, there is a book in my story.” — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“It's a strange product of infatuation, she thinks. To want to tell someone about mundane things. The awareness of another person suddenly sharpens your… — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“There's not a thing in the world that will not change, including you.” — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“They are in the middle of the sidewalk, face to face, between a tobacco shop and a trash can. Everything they’ve never said flows… — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
“It’s never the wedding dresses, you know. We keep those, too, but only because they’re so blooming expensive. No. I’ve seen enough old ladies’… — Alexis M. Smith Copy Share Image
