Best 13 quotes of Jennifer Vandever on MyQuotes

And the horrible thing was: what if they were right? What if she lived her whole life and never really knew what love was? What if it was deeper than she ever imagined? What if she died without ever knowing what she missed? How would she know to even miss it? Love--deep, profound, soul-stirring love--happened on this planet, in this life. And she missed it. On the other hand, her mother had a point: babies were awful. They were selfish, greedy, expensive and ultimately resentful of what they later would decide you had withheld from them. You were, in effect, creating someone uniquely fine-tuned to discern your slightest faults and broadcast them from the highest point.

And who would advocate for her? Who would arrange her doctor appointments and throw out rotting bananas as she drifted into old age? Who would keep her photos, her jewelry, her horrible shadowboxes full of undergraduate angst, her hummingbird paintings, or even her tango shoes? Who would care about all the random junk she accumulated over the years and the stories that had attached to them?

But now she regarded her sister with curious distance. She'd been so actively excluded from everything important to her she felt suddenly, intensely alone.

He turned to her and smiled. "OK. And you paint. Men come and go," he said, wagging a finger. "Be good to yourself. What you have? Inside? That's permanent. Any man doesn't see that, doesn't deserve you.

Richard and I always called you the punisher. We never had to discipline you. Not like we did Hermione or Polly. Because you were so hard on yourself. If there's anything I want for you now, as a mother, even if I don't 'deserve' it is: I want you to be gentle. I want you to have compassion. For yourself and everyone. It's what every parent wants. If their any good. Which maybe I wasn't...

She realized children shouldn't be thought of as mere post-mortem media storage sites, but really, where on earth was she going to unload all her earthly crap if not upon someone biologically required to care?

Someone has broken your heart. I knew there was something about you. That's it, isn't it?' A little," Sara said, suddenly self-conscious. I'm sorry.' It happens." She shrugged, straining for nonchalance. Maybe,' he said. 'But if it's your destiny, what can you do but accept it.

That's just how it is. You get halfway through your life and realize you've done it all wrong. You've picked the wrong jobs and followed the wrong dreams. Every decision from your cradle to the counter of an upscale children's boutique in Portland, Oregon gratingly names little fig where you now stand tethered at the age of thirty-seven for thirteen-dollars-an-hour-plus-commission has been all wrong.

The Friday afternoon of a teenager--had anything more wonderful existed?

Their dancing was simple and expert and reminded her of something one of her art teachers told her about bad artists taking something simple and making it seem complicated while good artists took something very complex and made it seem simple. The couple was an illustration of this rule; the dance seemed barely to qualify for the term--in essence they seemed merely to be walking, slowly in lockstep. They would stop occasionally, the woman led into a simple ocho and then resume their slow, meditative procession. They seemed, to Rosalind's untrained eye, to be under a spell.

The woman danced with an economy of motion Rosalind had noted among the very talented. There was always something self-contained about the better dancers; they held something in reserve, a restraint formed mysteriously by something they'd given up opposing. This surrender made the dancers beautiful. Rosalind had noticed it from the first, the way that skill reordered things; skill altered the economy of beauty so that this woman with a face like an old spoon would be the one men wanted to dance with all night. The dance and her skill made her desirable. She moved with a calm dignity as though it never occurred to her that someone wouldn't want to dance with her.

They smiled awkwardly and hugged again. Rosalind thought briefly to ask when they'd stopped being necessary to each other, when she had become another obligation to fill like their parents or Polly.

you really got to do it--it's like you don't know what love is until you have a kid.