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Image of the quote is loading... SaveSave Here she was, being rescued by a socialist, feminist, lesbian, baby-killing, foreign terrorist. What would the ladies in the sewing circle say to that? - Quote by Hillary Jordan

Here she was, being rescued by a socialist, feminist, lesbian, baby-killing, foreign terrorist. What would the ladies in the sewing circle say to that?

Hillary Jordan
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The creature was weeping, and who could blame it, as hideous and abject and lonely as it was? But its tears, Hannah perceived suddenly, didn't just spring from wretchedness. They were also tears of relief, because it was alive, because it had survived another day. How could anything be grateful for such an existence? And yet, this creature was, and when it saw itself and knew that it wanted to live in spite of everything, it wept even harder, sobbing inconsolably until it was depleted.
Hillary Jordan
What we can't speak, we say in silence.
Hillary Jordan
She felt a soft brush of lips against her forehead, heard the other woman murmur, "Sleep now, chére."Chére, Hannah though. Cherished. It was a good thing to be. She wrapped the word around her and carried it down with her into sleep.
Hillary Jordan
She prayed for that all through the night, uncertain to Whom or what, but with a feeling that almost resembled faith.
Hillary Jordan
To be touched with love was a kind of miracle.
Hillary Jordan
She'd crossed into a place where truth, even if it was brutal, was all she had to offer.
Hillary Jordan
That wasn't enough. They weren't enough.Nor, she soon realized, was Will, though by every rational measure he ought to have been. ... He became ardent, spoke of love, hinted at marriage. She stilled his roving hands and deflected his near-proposals. Finally, when his frustration turned to anger, she cut him loose, bleeding and disoriented, her own heart perfectly intact.Aidan wouldn't leave it intact, she'd known that from the first. Long before they became lovers, she could foresee that there would be an after, and that it would lay waste to them both.
Hillary Jordan
She stood by the bed and stroked her father's hand, knowing how desperately afraid he must feel at this moment. He'd always prided himself on being the kind of man who could be counted on, a man to whom others looked for advice and support. Dependence would wither his spirit, and the thought of that, of her father being diminished or broken, was almost as unbearable as the thought of losing him.
Hillary Jordan
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