Oona Out Of Order Quotes

All good things end, always. The trick is to enjoy them while they last.

There would be bad days, there always would. But she'd collect these good days, each one illuminated, and string them together until they glowed brightly in her memory like Christmas lights in a mirrored room.

Make your life more about letting in the good things than preventing the bad things.

Time heals all. But what if time itself is the disease?

But there was a freedom in making mistakes, feeling broken, falling into the void, and then climbing out. A freedom in letting go, setting aside, moving on.

Stop micromanaging your life and just live it; joy and meaning will follow. Find the happy medium between being daring and responsible. Cultivate that balance. Do your best. Be good to yourself, even when—especially when—life isn’t being good to you.

It felt as if my whole life had been shaped by the things people wouldn't say.

Dogs and books, two excellent defenses against solitude and despair.

Hiraeth: homesickness for something that never was and never could be.

Is this what it means to get older, replaying happy memories because the best times are behind you?

Oona stopped trusting the mirror years ago. After all it told only a sliver of the story. The mirror exposed time’s passage, yes, but eclipsed her heart’s true mileage. Each year the body was hers but her mind was out of sync with her reflection.

Whichever the years flow it was impossible to outmaneuver their passage. Even chronology doesn't guarantee security. All good things ended. Always. The trick was to enjoy them when they lasted.

That's the amazing thing about you. How sneaky your wisdom and how quiet your sacrifices.

Anger is a poison and forgiveness is the antidote.

You weren't adding chaos to my life. You were adding color.

Mama used to say what you dislike in other people is really what you dislike in yourself.

But being able to buy anything put a spotlight on the things that couldn't be bought (lost friendship, lost love,lost time), human nature being prone to focus on what was lacking.

When I was growing up, Mama used to say what you dislike in other people is really what you dislike in yourself.

Oona was still learning, everytime she leaped no matter the year someone important would be absent from life. Every year bittersweet. But it would be okay. There would be bad days, there always would. But she'd collect these good days, each one illuminated, and string them together until they glowed brightly in her memory

It was a compliment like a piece of candy dusted with arsenic.

Oona stopped trusting the mirror years ago. After all it told only a sliver of the story. The mirror exposed time’s passage, yes, but eclipsed her heart’s true mileage.

A hug that superseded platitudes like “I’m here for you” and “everything will be okay” while still conveying those things.

How terrible it must be when the source of your pain is your own child.

the world is gonna carry on whether you spend the year moping in bed or exploring it.

tchotchke

There would be bad days, there always would. But she’d collect these good days, each one illuminated, and string them together until they glowed brightly in her memory like Christmas lights in a mirrored room.

being able to buy anything put a spotlight on the things that couldn’t be bought (lost friendship, lost love, lost time)

I was raised not to express emotional problems. Do you know there isn’t even a Korean word for depression? The closest thing is a phrase that translates as having a down heart.

You’re not Sarah Connor, and the Terminator is now governor of California

Her next leap would always hover over the horizon waiting to wisp her away. In some cases waiting to grant a wish from years ago.

Oona was still learning, everytime she leaped no matter the year someone important would be absent from life.

The mirror exposed time’s passage, yes, but eclipsed her heart’s true mileage. The lined face, the extra pounds, the hair chemically treated to hide its gray. Each year the body was hers, but her mind was out of sync with her reflection. Always playing catch-up, trying to rearrange the scrambled pieces of her life. It

Time heals all. But what if time itself is the disease? —Wim Wenders and Peter Handke, Wings of Desire

panko fried chicken and truffle mac and cheese with soppressata.

The mirror exposed time’s passage, yes, but eclipsed her heart’s true mileage. The lined face, the extra pounds, the hair chemically treated to hide its gray. Each year the body was hers, but her mind was out of sync with her reflection

She often teased Oona about taking things too seriously, whether it was her college courses or band practice, or even her relationship with Dale, urging her daughter to be young and frivolous once in a while. As if you couldn’t be serious about something and still enjoy it. As if being young meant being foolish.

A black, hissing voice in her head: How many mistakes can you live with?

ready to go, but the clock would have no sympathy. Her next leap would always hover on the horizon, unavoidable, waiting to whisk her away.

Seven years of disorientation and strange navigation. Seven years of wandering and wondering. Seven long years until she returned.

She had to pretend she didn’t know what would happen next year. It was the only way she’d enjoy this one.

And maybe youth isn’t wasted on the young; maybe the young know how to spend their youth just right.

So ordinary people act like they're famous?

He chuckled. “Probably