“It is evening. The moon is small, and new. There are stars, and a stream's sound, and I can hear the wings of insects, in the dark. I think what gifts we are given, such gifts--every day.” — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“Which people take the time to care for their souls, these days? I reckon not many. But...hear this: I think that maybe in our… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“A man can be beautiful, I see that now. It's not just a woman's term, not a word reserved for romantic, virtuous, elegant things.… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“What creatures we are. What powers are in us--in all of us. What we already know, if we choose to spend time with ourselves.… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“A man can be beautiful, I see that now. It’s not just a woman’s term, not a word reserved for romantic, virtuous, elegant things.… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“There are some stories that you don't tell aloud, that you make up and tell silently to yourself.” — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
We carry on. We have ourselves and we carry on- in spite of our losses and mistakes and women, I think, have more than… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
Love is blind, they say--but isn't it more that love makes us see too much? Isn't it more that love floods our brain with… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“So I say this. Speak of them. Speak of those that died. Speak of all those who ever died--in all the world's history, in… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“So I was for stories. I was for stries just as gannets were for balls of silver-flashing fish - I'd crash towards them, gaping.… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
Kisses open doors, I've noticed. That one gesture can unlock secrets, ease open feelings. It can't be prevented--these kisses just are. It's how they… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“Mr Phipps seemed to think criminality was passed down through the generations like a stutter, or a squint, or in my case red hair.” — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
“So walk into your life. Do what you want to do, Florrie, always – because a timid, obedient woman is quite the tragedy… Life.… — Susan Fletcher Copy Share Image
