Best 9 quotes of L. A. Kuehlke on MyQuotes

Everything made sense in a book...Too bad her life wasn’t fiction.

I think it would have to be the way that my sister looks at you when you can’t see it.” “Yeah? And how’s that?” he asked, very interested in the answer. “Oh, you know,” she said coolly, “like you’re the air she needs to breathe.

Like a porcelain facade, her outer shell was breaking away.

Miranda waited. No voice spoke. No heavenly choir broke out in song. God Himself did not call her name. She frowned. Typical.

She could hear the voice of her childhood, could see a younger version of herself plucking petals off a flower. He loves me; he loves me not. (She) left the petals alone, not ready to hear the answer. The fragrance of the flowers danced around her; and in her mind, or memory, or both, she could hear a song. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be transported there. He stood in a black suit looking painfully handsome; she wore a green dress wishing he would see her…really see her. It was easy and comfortable. They swayed slowly, lost in the melody, the moment. His hand on her waist, her hand on his shoulder, their fingers clasped tightly together. He loves me; he loves me not.

When had things gotten so tangled in her heart and mind? Everything had been clear at one point, hadn’t it? No, she supposed it never had been perfectly clear.

You: Are you okay? How could I answer that truthfully? ‘I’m not really okay and I think I might be better if I could just hear the sound of your voice?’ That was a bit too much, my brain decided. Me: Yep My phone rang almost immediately. “You’re not okay,” you said. My heart nearly stopped beating at the sound of your voice. It was incredible, the effect that one particular voice had on me. It steadied me. “How can you tell?” I asked, laughing weakly. I could picture you —well, at least what I imagine of you — wondering if you should say what I somehow already knew you would. “You never say ‘yep’.” “I say it all the time.” “No,” you replied, “you don’t. You say it when you’re trying not to say whatever’s on your mind. So talk.” “I’m fine, just tired and a bit bored, I guess.” Liar, my inner voice said accusingly. You miss him and you know it.

You’re not his,” Bryan said firmly. “Bry, I don’t know whose I am anymore.

You still do that thing, you know,” she said. “What thing?” He raised an eyebrow. Miranda smiled. “That thing where you say what I’m thinking. That thing.” “Oh,” Bryan began, “I suppose it comes from years of having to read your mind to figure out what was going on in there.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Your turn.