e lingered inside our fragile bubble of happiness, the kind of happiness that sits on top of melancholy as easily as icing on a cake.
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
Blond men simply aren’t to be trusted.”
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
He kissed her again, long and leisurely, still holding her off the step. He tasted like a blue, sun-warmed sea, and at some point Osla dropped her boots into the puddle.
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
It was the dawn of 1940, and she had danced in the New Year in a boiler suit and satin sandals with a prince.
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
Not everybody looked at a rose and got entranced not by the scent but by the pattern of it, the way the petals overlapped like stairs winding inward . . . inward . . .
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
Are not there little chapters in everybody’s life, Beth had read in Vanity Fair only that morning, that seem to be nothing, and yet affect all the rest of history?
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
“‘The greatest tyrants over women are women,’”
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
There’s always an after
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
It’s not a game.” Beth had never contradicted a superior in her life, but in this cozy library overlooking a tangled garden, none of the ordinary rules seemed to apply. “It’s war.”
Habitante de libroalıntı yaptıgeçen yıl
Marry for friendship, not love,” Osla had heard her mother quip. “Friends listen better than lovers!”
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