“A freshly red-painted train caboose had, for decades now, made its home on a green, little patch of the world outside of the one-room post office. Every small town that I had ever been to had had a caboose.” — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share
“I just want her to know that she's still beautiful, after all these years, and that I'm here - always,” — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share Image
“A freshly red-painted train caboose had, for decades now, made its home on a green, little patch of the world outside of the one-room post office. Every small town that I had ever been to had had a caboose.” — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share
“His voice had this thick, Charleston accent, where every word had more syllables than ever intended, yet each word seemed as if it had… — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share Image
“How does the story really go? Does she ever cross your mind? Does she ever steal your nights? Is she still a part of you? Do you ever wish she were still by your side? And what would you do? If she walked up here tomorrow And told you that she loved you? Would you drop it all and run… — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share
“I had found him again, and with him, my world had become completely unwound. It was messy and impulsive, naïve and irrational, and somehow,… — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share Image
“See, I’m in love with the person you can never outrun. I’m in love with you.” — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share Image
“Big events, small, mundane moments of the day–it doesn’t matter; the past will find a way to squeeze into the present–if you let it.” — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share Image
“The levee had always been my beach, the world beyond it, my ocean. That’s as close as it got here, anyway. No waves, no… — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share Image
“She always used to say that the past is a relentless parasite in its quest, feeding off of the senses, looking for anything that… — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share Image
“Tell me you’ve seen the world. Now, you’ve come back home Tell me you’ve carried me with you, That you’ve held me close. Tell… — Laura Miller, Butterfly Weeds Copy Share Image
