Rebecca Wells Quotes

But who has time to write memoirs? I’m still living my memoirs.

It’s life. You don’t figure it out. You just climb up on the beast and ride.

There is the truth of history, and there is the truth of what a person remembers. As {she} sat at the edge of {the lake}, memory blossoms floated unbounded, as though breathed, no words spoken. Like birds that fly across national borders, between countries at war at each other.

...you do not have too many boogeymen for me. You have just the right number.

Sidda can't help herself. She just loves books. Loves the way they feel, the way they smell, loves the black letters marching across the white pages...

At the beauty of what she had stumbled onto, at the fear that something terrible would happen because she was not vigilant enough. She cried at the fear of something so good that she would not be brave enough to bear it.

See, she goes places when she reads. I know all about that. When I'm reading, wherever I am, I'm always somewhere else.

I live in an ocean of smell…

The very air they breathed was almost a juice.

…the love we most cherish will, of necessity, bring us pain. Because that love is like the setting of a body with broken bones. But I want to stage the setting. I want to direct all scenes.

These are all I have. I do not have the wide, bright beacon of some solid old lighthouse, guiding ships safely home, past the jaggedrocks. I only have these little glimmers that flicker and then go out.

Friends are supposed to act like harbor boats - let you know if you’re off course. But it ain’t always possible…

You know how some people, when they're together, they somehow make you feel more hopeful? Make you feel like the world is not the insane place it really is?