Kate Morton Quotes - Page 2

In each man's heart there lies a hole. A dark abyss of need, the filling of which takes precedence over all else.

The world was an awfully large place and it wasn't easy to find a person who'd gone missing sixty years earlier, even if that person was oneself.

...She's understood the power of stories. Their magical ability to refill the wounded part of people.

All true readers have a book, a moment when real life is never going to be able to compete with fiction again.

... people who'd led dull and blameless lives did not give thanks for second chances.

I'm good with words, but not the spoken kind; I've often thought what a marvelous thing it would be if I could only conduct relationships on paper.

Gerry?' Laurel had to strain to hear thought the noise on the other end of the line. 'Gerry? Where are you?' 'London. A phone booth on Fleet Street.' 'The city still has working phone booths?' 'It would appear so. Unless this is the Tardis, in which case I'm in serious trouble.

She's one of the few people able to look beyond the lines on my face to see the twenty-year-old who lives inside.

The stretch of years leaves none unmarked: the blissful sense of youthful invincibility peels away and responsibility brings its weight to bear.

Ah, well. Life's too short for moderation, wouldn't you say?

Adults weren’t supposed to understand their children and you were doing something wrong if they did.

Children don’t require of their parents a past and they find something faintly unbelievable, almost embarrassing, in parental claims to a prior existence.

Photographs force us to see people before their future weighed them down, before they knew their endings.

She doesn't know I cry for the changing times. That just as I reread favourite books, some small part of me hoping for a different ending, I find myself hoping against hope that the war will never come. That this time, somehow, it will leave us be.

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but little girls usually fared much better.

I probably coughed self-pityingly in response, little aware that I was about to cross a tremendous threshold beyond which there would be no return, that in my hands I held an object whose simple appearance belied its profound power. All true readers have a book, a moment, like the one I describe, and when Mum offered me that much-read library copy mine was upon me.

Cassandra's grandmother smiled then, only it wasn't a happy smile. Cassandra thought she knew how it felt to smile like that. She often did so herself when her mother promised her something she really wanted but knew might not happen.

But history is a faithless teller whose cruel recourse to hindsight makes fools of its actors.

Percy climbed the first step, then the next, remembering the thousands of times she'd run through the door, in a hurry to get to the future, to whatever was coming next, to this moment.

She hadn't wanted to be loved carefully, only well.

There's a market for mysteries for adults. That feeling of opening a book and delving inside and not coming out until you've closed the book.

I simply love writing good stories, that's my passion.

Mother didn't understand that children aren't frightened by stories; that their lives are full of far more frightening things than those contained in fairy tales.

So much in life came down to timing.

Hope's one thing, expectation's quite another.