Kirsten Green Quotes

This is April," he said, holding up the chicken. "She's the only friend I have left. I saved her from an evil chef at Tavern on the Green, and we've pledged eternal friendship.

Stupid girl, I thought. How many hands must he have held before mine? How many girls must have fallen for a lifetime into those bright green eyes only to hit rock bottom. Girls whose hearts he’d broken and left to pick up the pieces of a shattered fantasy lost to male ego and the need to break more. And this was why my track record with men was so pathetic. It didn’t matter how well crafted the act was, or even how poorly crafted, I always fell. And hard.

It had been clear from the beginning that both of Ivy's thumbs and all eight of her fingers were green. Plants thrived in her presence. When she and Rose were infants, Sadie planted the window boxes outside their nursery with star jasmine. Within months, the plants had taken over that side of the building and infused the estate with their magical scent. When the girls were old enough to be set free outdoors, Rose headed straight for the wildflower meadow, where she crafted daisy crowns and gathered garnishes for Sadie's cocktails. Ivy made a beeline for the garden. For the rest of her youth--- and long afterward--- that was where she spent her days. She knew exactly what plants enjoyed each other's company. And she could easily resolve any conflicts that arose between them. By the time she was ten, no one else dared go near Ivy's garden. Even the deer and rabbits that wandered freely across the estate knew better. Not everything Ivy grew was meant to be eaten.

Then she saw them both as little girls with wicker baskets in hand as they gathered treasures from Ivy's garden. Beautiful beetles with iridescent green wings clung to Brigid's black sundress, and ghostly white cabbage moths fluttered around her head. A ladybug landed on Brigid's nose and she passed it to Phoebe. "Make a wish," she told her sister.

The wildflowers she waded through were those she recognized from her youth. Chicory, Queen Anne's lace, and black-eyed Susans. An apple tree she and Phoebe had planted by the pond when they were both small had grown into a monster. Though it was only the middle of June, the branches were dripping with fruit. Rather than red or green, the apples were a purple so deep it almost looked black. Brigid plucked one off the tree and took a bite. The flesh underneath was a brilliant white.