#am

She pictured a dandelion gone by, the white, almost airless pieces of her family scattered so far. ↗

— Elizabeth Strout

#family

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. ↗

— Léon Tolstoï

#family

We had visceral, rich memories of dull, interminable hours. Then a day would pass in perfect harmony with our projects, our family members, and our coworkers, and we couldn’t believe we were getting paid for this. ↗

— Joshua Ferris

#work #family

I found Caeden lying on my bed with both the dogs. He was talking to them and petting Archie behind his ears. It was like our own little family. ↗

— Micalea Smeltzer

#family

But I also knew that if he turned away from me at this moment, somehow I would survive that, and I would find a way to flourish like the yard that still bloomed and grew around my family home. I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I belong here. ↗

— Charlaine Harris

#flourishing #survival #surviving #family

He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to his shirt, bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#nora #patch #letting-go

Friends end. But family will stay when your friendship ends ↗

— Misti Hemlock

#family

every parent will leave a personal legacy (though not all parents will leave behind an inheritance). what i give to my children or what i do for my children is not as important as what i leave in them. ↗

— Reggie Joiner

#family

On her last visit, the girl stole one of his family photographs right out of the frame. He thinks this means she is starting to care about him, too. Now whenever he looks at the empty frame, Sawtooth is moved to tears. He has to stare straight up at the ceiling, a loophole that prevents fluid from falling out of the eyes, thus saving a man the embarrassment of crying like a damn fool infant. ↗

— Karen Russell

#out-to-sea #family

It's impossible to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even this one sentence. Because now I know that everything I say will be directly taken out on Peeta. Result in his torture. But not his death, no, nothing so merciful as that. Snow will ensure that his life is much more worse than death. "Cut," I hear Cressida say quietly. "What's wrong with her?" Plutarch says under his breath. "She's figured out how Snow's using Peeta," says Finnick. There's something like a collective sigh of regret from that semicircle of people spread out before me. Because I know this now. Because there will never be a way for me to not know this again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a entails, I am broken. Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he's there, holding me and patting my back. "It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart." He sits me on a length of broken marble pillar and keeps an arm around me while I sob. "I can't do this anymore," I say. "I know," he says. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#death