Luann Quotes

Sometimes waiting is the hardest thing of all.

Love is the easiest thing there is. It's the layers of doubt, fear, and expectation that make it complicated.

The biggest mistake any of us can make is thinking that love is a feeling, an emotion. It's not that at all. It's an action.

Goodbyes were impossible, unless you didn't realize you were saying them.

(LuAnn) Whatever. That'll teach me not to build my life around a man whose favorite book is Atlas Shrugged. Listen, kid." She waggles her finger, as if scolding me. "Nothing good comes from Ayn RAnd. Trust me on this.

What the eye couldn’t see, the imagination filled in. We put names to the unexplained. Cast it as something to either fear or worship. And yet just because a thing can’t be seen doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

Look up.

The music never leaves. Once you have it, you can't lose it.

Clear nights are sometimes the coldest.

Judgment is easy: it is black and white, as brutal as a gavel strike.

Beach girls now, beach girls tomorrow, beach girls till the end of time.

Our stories remind us how precious and fragile life can be-- and that we must risk our hearts everyday to know happiness.

happy endings start with new beginnings.

The heart had a tendency to harden off after being forced to survive inside a life two sizes too small, deprived of the oxygen of dreams.

Some feelings are stronger than fear: love, longing, desire.

You fall in love with the girl next door but married her sister.

never judge anyone by their appearance, or the car they drive, or the house they live in, or even by the words they say. judge people by their actions. that's how you know whether they're bad or good." - perfect Summer

We think we've seen it all before, we think we know it all by heart.

I don't get as much fan mail as an actor or singer would, but when I get a letter 99% of the time it's pointing out something that really had an impact. Like after 'My Own Private Rodeo' all these people wrote to me and said Dale's dad inspired them to come out. And this was when it was still illegal to be gay in Texas and a few other states. Another one that really stuck with me was this girl who survived Columbine. See, "Wings of the Dope," the episode where Luanne's boyfriend comes back as an angel, aired two weeks after the shooting. About a month after that, I got a letter from a girl who was there and hid somewhere in the school when it was all going on. She said the first thing she was gonna do if she survived was tell a friend of hers she was in love with him. She never did. He ended up being one of the kids responsible for it. So you can imagine how - you know, to her, it felt wrong to grieve almost, and she bottled it up. But she saw that episode and Buckley walking away at the end and something just let her finally break down and greive and miss the guy. I remember she quoted Luanne - 'I wonder if he's guardianing some other girl,' or something along that line, because she never had the guts to tell the kid. That really gets to people at Comic Con.

Sometimes it's more generous to take than give, he said. "How?" Caroline asked. "To let the other person give you what he has to offer. If you're always the one giving, you never have to feel disappointed, because you don't expect anything in return. But it's miserly in its own way. Because you never leave yourself open or give the other person a chance.

Emboldened by the dark phase of the moon, the constellations twisted round in their infinite sky, slowly corkscrewing into the future, divining immutable futures for those still awake and gazing up.

A good sailor knows everything is always changing.

We put names to the unexplained. Cast it as something to either fear or worship. And yet just because a thing can’t be seen doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

Sometimes you have to act a little crazy just to stay sane.

Mark my words – fashions change, causes change, but men’s ambitions never do.

When we hurt people just to punish them, Luanne used to say, we create a darkness that will live on long after our reasons for giving birth to it have faded.

Worrying doesn’t change anything, just causes unnecessary stress.

Missing pieces do more than complete the puzzle, they fill in an empty space.

she debated the wisdom of not having waited longer for someone more suitably dressed to pass by on the road. Now she regretted how the stolen coat smelled

Intuition knows the truth when heard, but the sound can leave a terrible ringing in the ears.

If you love someone, everything else is crap.

Before dawn, the air smelled of lemons.

People who don't like doing things together probably...well probably shouldn't get married.

He wouldn’t be the first man to learn he’s wrong about something he’s certain about.

He wouldn't try to make her feel better about something if it meant telling her a lie.

He likes being all superior and reminding me how much I don’t know.” “So you’re saying he’s a man?

She was Elena, disciple of the All Knowing and daughter of the Chanceaux Valley. And she was free.

Something you always look for, but never know when it's going to happen

The transformation, the struggle between light and dark, that is what propels life forward. That metamorphosis is one’s purpose for existing.

We are shaped by the loss of our fathers, and others. Because a mother leaving shapes her daughters in deep and inescapable ways. Luann Rice from THE DEEP BLUE SEA FOR BEGINNERS

I can't get past the strange contradiction that seems to lurk behind everything we do. Because no matter what, or who, we end up choosing, all of us feel like we've failed somehow. Kayla feels guilty for planning a future with Blake; Dominique feels guilty that she won't with Carlos. LuAnn dropped everything to make it work with her guy, and I'm filled with shame every time I think about how I did the same thing, building my life around Garrett without realizing it then working just as hard to take that version of my life apart, piece by piece. So how are we supposed to win? On the one hand, the world tells us that capital-L Love is epic, and all conquering, and the meaning of everything, but on the other it drills us with this message that we shouldn't make any sacrifice or effort to pursue it, because that would make us weak, unempowered, desperate, silly girls.

The patients there were mostly teenaged girls, with the occasional boy. I thought of us all as tigers with thorns in our paws. We were beautiful beasts who’d gotten injured by life, by loss or trauma or shock, and if we could just get the splinters out of our paws, we’d be fine. My thorn was the fact that my mother had left me. Megan

Chaos and order rested on two sides of a sharp edge, but so did pain and pleasure. Harmony and discord. There was not one without the other. Always the dance of tension. One could choose which side to lean into if or when the blade tipped off-center.

Conhecia a natureza do corpo humano: que era formado por 97 por cento de água. Que as suas veias continham água salgada, tal como os afluentes sujeitos às marés. Que uma vez por mês, bem, antes da gravidez, o ciclo do seu corpo ecoava o movimento da Lua nas marés dos oceanos

That was really it, her message as a nun and a child of God: listen deeply to your heart. That was how and where God communicated with people. Not so much in burning bushes or on mountaintops, in blue grottos or apparitions of the Virgin Mary, but more often in the depths of their own hearts.

There’s a certain vulgarity in assigning worth to any individual life when each represents a piece in the mosaic of the whole.

It made her dizzy to think of the spinning world and the multitude of destinies swirling together, fueling the future forward for everyone—individually and collectively.

Just because someone wrote something down in a book doesn’t make a lie a truth, though it may reveal the depth of the author’s ignorance.

All I know is we're 16 and ready to be kissed, kissed kissed.

Every day the world subtracts from itself and nothing is immune.

In the absence of sisters, we find sisters. In the absence of mothers, we find mothers. In the absence of family, you are my family.’ 

Love is the greatest blessing there is, and when you love someone as much as he loved you, you can’t let go lightly. You just can’t.

Don't let over description ruin your work -less is more. No one cares that you know what "Acquiesce" means. Seriously.

When the truth has been left in the dark too long, its cousins rumor and innuendo are allowed to grow into hideous shapes.

Camille Claudel, Auguste Rodin’s model and thrown-away lover.

Love was a potion as potent as hemlock or wolfsbane

He imagined her being more like a placid dark lake that one had to give their soul over to for the privilege of knowing how deep her waters ran.

No one’s path stops midlife. It must continue toward its end.

But we don't always go to church" -Emily "Caring about people doesn't just take place there. It's how you act out in the world, when no one is looking, where it really counts" -Dad

Summer meant the garden. It meant roses, hollyhocks, larkspur, geraniums. It meant birds. It meant long days and starry nights.

Water is what people need to survive,” he said. “It quenches the deepest thirst, and you don’t have to be rich to drink it. There’s nothing better than cold water….

Be ready for the gift you least expect. Every day. It’s the only way to live….

faith: belief in light of the absence of proof, enlightenment received through prayer, and that which is seen and unseen….

I used to escape into books. I'd hear my father yelling, and I'd open my book and dive in. I don't know what I would have done without reading.

At night, all the cats are gray.

Power craved power, leading some into dangerous alliances.

Mark my words—fashions change, causes change, but men’s ambitions never do,

Mortal men. What flaw was it in their ape brains that convinced them their schemes were paramount to everyone else’s?

me, loving someone means carrying them, and feeding them, and holding them when they’re scared. God might be up there”—he nodded his head back, tilting up toward the ceiling—“but I’m down here.

Les pieds de Dieu. Do not tell my superior, but the smell of God’s feet is heaven to me.” The monk smiled. Threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Eight months ago I added milk, rennet, and a little salt together in a wooden vat. Pressed it, shaped it, and put it on the shelf to age. Today I have a delicious cheese to share with a guest. But the flavor, monsieur, that grows from something I did not add.

They say your life flashes before you at the time of death, but for Clea, the lives were not hers, but her grandmother’s and her parents’. She thought of how they had loved her, of what a short time they had had together.

Sierra laughed and looked so happy that it touched his heart. It didn't dawn on him until now that she always looked a little sad. And perhaps lost. Well, if she were lost, he had just found her, and he wasn't about to let her go.

Neither she nor her sister could resist collecting the shiny trinkets that churned up with the river's tide. Rings, bottles, spoons, keys, combs, bones - there was always something new coughed up on the bank, as if the water grew perpetually ill on the taste of human detritus.

Hugh had been her obsession. When he was away, she had assumed he was with other women. It drove her crazy, dominated her thoughts. She had tried to concentrate on her daughters, but her own insecurity was much too huge. When Skye would beg for a story or Clea would need help with her music lessons, Augusta would tell them to ask Caroline. So Augusta could be with Hugh.

Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter to the other. “Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. “Now there is no more loneliness; now you are two persons but there is only one life before you. “Go now to your dwelling place to enter into the days of your life together. “And may your days be good and long upon the earth and in heaven.

It was in that kitchen where I waited for Daddy and Mrs. Masicotte to be finished with the weekly business, two rooms away. Though Mrs. Masicotte seemed as indifferent to me as her renters were, she provided richly for me while I waited. On hand were plates of bakery cookies, thick picture books with shiny pages, punch-out paper dolls. My companion during these vigils was Zahra, Mrs. Masicotte’s fat tan cocker spaniel, who sat at my feet and watched, unblinking, as cookies traveled mercilessly from the plate to my mouth. Mrs. Masicotte and my father laughed and talked loud during their meetings and sometimes played the radio. (Our radio at home was a plastic box; Mrs. Masicotte’s was a piece of furniture.) “Are we going soon?” I’d ask Daddy whenever he came out to the kitchen to check on me or get them another pair of Rheingolds. “A few minutes,” was what he always said, no matter how much longer they were going to be. I wanted my father to be at home laughing with Ma on Saturday afternoons, instead of with Mrs. Masicotte, who had yellowy white hair and a fat little body like Zahra’s. My father called Mrs. Masicotte by her first name, LuAnn; Ma called her, simply, “her.” “It’s her,” she’d tell Daddy whenever the telephone interrupted our dinner. Sometimes, when the meetings dragged on unreasonably or when they laughed too loud in there, I sat and dared myself to do naughty things, then did them. One time I scribbled on all the faces in the expensive storybooks. Another Saturday I waterlogged a sponge and threw it at Zahra’s face. Regularly, I tantalized the dog with the cookies I made sure stayed just out of her reach. My actions—each of which invited my father’s anger—shocked and pleased me.

freeze, so she opted for pants with a thick, nubbly sweater that added substance to her frame. As always, her necklace was in place, and she donned a lovely bright cashmere scarf to keep her neck warm. When she stepped back to appraise herself in the mirror, she felt she looked almost as good as she had before chemotherapy started. Collecting her purse, she took a couple more pills—the pain wasn’t as bad as yesterday, but no reason to risk it—and called an Uber. Pulling up to the gallery a few minutes after closing time, she saw Mark through the window, discussing one of her photographs with a couple in their fifties. Mark offered the slightest of waves when Maggie stepped inside and hurried to her office. On her desk was a small stack of mail; she was quickly sorting through it when Mark suddenly tapped on her open door. “Hey, sorry. I thought they’d make a decision before you arrived, but they had a lot of questions.” “And?” “They bought two of your prints.” Amazing, she thought. Early in the life of the gallery, weeks could go by without the sale of even a single print of hers. And while the sales did increase with the growth of her career, the real renown came with her Cancer Videos. Fame did indeed change everything, even if the fame was for a reason she wouldn’t wish upon anyone. Mark walked into the office before suddenly pulling up short. “Wow,” he said. “You look fantastic.” “I’m trying.” “How do you feel?” “I’ve been more tired than usual, so I’ve been sleeping a lot.” “Are you sure you’re still up for this?” She could see the worry in his expression. “It’s Luanne’s gift, so I have to go. And besides, it’ll help me get into the Christmas spirit.

times?

You have to have your head in the clouds to shoot for the stars,

None of us ever think our lives would be our lives,” Scotty said.

The dull progression of an ordinary life that chipped away at a man a day at a time so that he didn't see the damage done until he found himself sitting alone in a house with nothing to show for it but the slow ticking of a clock on the wall.

But the worst thing she'd done to bring ruin to Château Renard was neglecting to pay her taxes. Nature could bend and accommodate a flaw, but the government would have its due.

Motherhood. Yes, Scotty understood more than anyone what it meant to me. When I think of Sam now, what she is about to face. How will she manage? I remember how I felt when my mother died. Scholarship and achievement had been my way of healing from what the Andersons had done. But once I conceived Sam, nothing else mattered in the same way. I wanted Kate to have this too—the eternal connection to a child, the transformation from a victim who had suffered at the hands of others to a powerful woman able to give life. Lulu too—our dear and not-so-dear secretive mystery girl Lulu. It sometimes felt so unfair to me that only Scotty and I had experienced motherhood. But frankly, not everyone deserves it—not just the childless, but not even every woman who’s become a mother.

Kate’s love helps me forgive myself for my own death. The choices I made, the people I hurt. But now I know—the best of us waste our time repenting, forgiving everyone but ourselves. And the worst don’t even realize there is anything to forgive. Hungry ghosts wander the earth, trapped in the bardo, seeking redemption that had been there all along.

I hope you know that about yourself, that you are perfect on your own. You have to make yourself whole—no one else can.

Everyone always said forgiveness is not forgetting, that the act is as full of grace for the forgiver as the forgiven. This would not hurt her. She gazed at the old man across from her. She knew that she would never see him again, and she also knew she could never absolve him.

Jean-Paul extinguished the candle flame between his moistened fingers. A small but nagging pain had settled above his right eye since he’d sat down to read. Now, in the diminished light, he closed the book, removed his glasses, and rubbed his brow. He’d found some answers in the volume the monk suggested, but, as was often the case, they only created more questions

Conor. “Yeah?” “This is my case,” she said. “And you’ve got a missing woman to find, so I’m wondering why you’re hanging around the boatyard with me.” “I miss you, Jen,” he said. “I never see you

Falling in love,” his father had said. “It’s like taking a horse over a brush fence—you get air, rise up, take the jump. And you might land okay, or you might go flying. You want to make sure you’re on solid ground. That’s what loving someone is like: you land safely. You have ground under your feet.

She picked out the most delicious food she could find, brought it home. She’d gotten things that were meaningful, that would connect with this magical time she’d had in the Camargue. Coquilles St. Jacques, glistening pink with the red roe still attached; small local crabs, just like the favouilles they’d seen last night; pencil-thin stalks of asparagus, as green as the fields all around the Manade; delicate squash blossoms, to be stuffed with a duxelles of mushrooms and herbs, the color bright saffron, reminiscent of the garland of flowers painted in the Dempseys’ kitchen.

Susannah set the table with Provençal cotton linens, the tablecloth pale pumpkin and the napkins printed with faded red and purple flowers, her throat caught. She had wanted to make this meal so special for Sari and Grey. She set out silverware, bright crockery, a Lucite peppermill and a blue container of Fleur-de-Sel de Camargue. She still had Grey’s black scallop shells and she arranged them in the center of the table, around a vase of colorful wildflowers.

mon petite chou.

One must learn to sway the influence instead, as if maneuvering on the wind, to truly transition between past and future, the born self and the created self.

a man I loved and cared about but wasn’t in love with.

You know what’s the worst thing about parents dying?” Harrison said. “It’s all the questions you’ll never get to ask them. Little things you thought you’d have forever to find out.

There is power in dangerous love. You can be so focused on the forbidden nature of it, justifying your choices to the world—me falling in love with Griffin while still legally married to Nate, Griffin giving me all his attention instead of trying to find a workable custody agreement with Margot, instead of doting on his devastated sons—that you miss the fact you’re completely wrong for each other.

book

Justice was its own art, shining light into the shadows, complex yet ultimately as simple as can be: bringing balance, making things right.

Not at all. Not in the eyes of the law and certainly not in mine.

The man’s chair sat empty, and his work boots slouched unworn near the door. He hadn’t come home.