When the cold comes to New England it arrives in sheets of sleet and ice. In December, the wind wraps itself around… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
You build your world around someone, and then what happens when he disappears? Where do you go-into pieces, into atoms, into the… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
If every life is a river, then it's little wonder that we do not even notice the changes that occur until we… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
Margaret thought of all she knew for certain, that day would always follow night that love was never wasted nor was it… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
Women know things that men will never know. We keep the best secrets. We tell the best stories. — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
“All of the quarters in his hand were tarnished. He had no idea that the silver in a man’s pockets always turns black if… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
But most important of all, she explained that it was all right to say 'No. I disagree.' that was a gift. I understood it… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
“It was after dark when the woods were most filled with magic, when there were fireflies and the mist was rising from the streams.” — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
“Never look back, that's what she's told herself. Don't think about swans or being alone in the dark. Don't think of storms, or lightning… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
This was what it meant to be human, to know that time moved and all things changed. — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
“She preferred cats to human beings and turned down every offer from the men who fell in love with her.” — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
It's not the lie that's the problem; it's the distance the lie forges between you. — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
“Her vision was going, but she could see him, the way people see clouds-beautiful, racing by, casting shadows.” — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
That's why there are ten gates to pass through before you reach the garden. If life were easy there would be one gate. There… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
“...the summer of the gypsy moths when all the trees in their yard were bare, the leaves chewed by caterpillars. You could hear crunching… — Alice Hoffman Copy Share Image
