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Kristina McMorris Quotes

It’s odd, isn’t it? People die every day and the world goes on like nothing happened. But when it’s a person you love, you think everyone should stop and take notice. That they ought to cry and light candles and tell

It’s odd, isn’t it? People die every day and the world goes on like nothing happened. But when it’s a person you love, you think everyone should stop and take notice. That they ought to cry and light candles and tell you that you’re not alone.

Kristina McMorris
Love You, Thinking, Light

The whole world can become the enemy when you lose what you love.

Kristina McMorris
Sad, Grief, Loss

When I was a kid, my mom once told me that God was an artist and how on occasion He’d throw a bucketful of paint across the sky for us all to see. I asked her why the paint disappeared by morning, and she told me that if the sky was always like that we might take it for granted. I suppose she was right. Maybe that’s what war is all about—so we can appreciate times of peace.

Kristina McMorris
Mom, Morning, War

In seven days God had created the Earth. In a single day mankind had turned it upside down.

Kristina McMorris
Earth, Seven Days, Upside Down
Kristina Mcmorris (2012). “Bridge of Scarlet Leaves”, p.82, Kensington Publishing Corp.

Not every loss was confirmed by an officer at the door. Nor a telegram with the power to sink a fleet. Loss, often the worst kind, also arrived through the deafening quiet of an absence.

Kristina McMorris
Loss, Doors, Quiet
Kristina Mcmorris (2013). “The Pieces We Keep”, p.131, Kensington Publishing Corp.

Life is too short not to say how you feel to the people you love.

Kristina McMorris
Life Is Too Short, People, How You Feel
Kristina Mcmorris (2011). “Letters From Home”, p.241, Kensington Publishing Corp.

Maybe heaven entailed more than a soul residing in a single place, but instead having pieces of yourself spread among the hearts and memories of people you've touched.

Kristina McMorris
Memories, Heart, People
Kristina Mcmorris (2013). “The Pieces We Keep”, p.413, Kensington Publishing Corp.

Were prayers of murderers, when fighting on the “right side” of the war, ever heard—let alone answered?

Kristina McMorris
Prayer, War, Fighting
Kristina Mcmorris (2011). “Letters From Home”, p.572, Kensington Publishing Corp.

Home. It's such a simple word, one I never knew would come to mean as much to me as it has. It once was my dad's house, then my uncle's farm. Mostly it's meant wherever Charlie and I were together. Now, though, it's you. It's your letters, your words. They're the place I go to with my fears, where I find comfort, where I feel safe.

Kristina McMorris
Uncles, Dad, Home

The line between him and the enemy had simultaneously blurred and solidified. Somehow, while perhaps it shouldn't have, this thought provided a strange sense of peace.

Kristina McMorris
Peace, Enemy, Lines
Kristina Mcmorris (2012). “Bridge of Scarlet Leaves”, p.371, Kensington Publishing Corp.

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