“When I as reading and writing, I was in that exhilarating place where the life of the imagination is more real than the tiles and soil and rock under my feet.” — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“The pictures she drew on were vibrant as ever, though. The crumbling stone farmstead overlooking the great Luberon valley where she was born. The… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“Dark rocks stood waiting to be sculpted by the wind. Tiny seeds rode the air, waiting to fall and take root. Under the sea,… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“Even as winter comes, mornings are crisp, and the big, blue sky seems to hang newly washed over the sea of hills.” — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“The sunlight could not quite dispel the difference in atmosphere now that she had seen the interior of the garden. It was as if… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“Scrubby evergreen bushes released a strong scent of resin and honey; forests of pine gave way to gentle south-facing vineyards disturbed only by the… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
I marveled at how they were all closed up, asleep with their secrets unseen until you reached up and took the book down from… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“Adrenaline fizzed in my veins, provoking that surge of self-doubt you get sometimes on the edge of some high place, that you might -… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“I still dream in pictures and color, always the world of my childhood. I see the purple Judas trees at Easter lighting up the… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“Blonde hair and blue eyes," she repeated. "The lavender fairy." "Now, hang on a minute!" "Just like the lavender fairy has. There's an old… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
“Eau-de-vie- flavored with myrtle," said the old woman. "Try it!" She watched intently as Ellie raised the glass to her lips. "Myrtle from the… — Deborah Lawrenson Copy Share Image
