Those we love don't go away, they sit beside us every day.— Liane Moriarty
The most sensational Liane Moriarty quotes that are little-known but priceless
All conflict can be traced back to someone's feelings getting hurt, don't you think?
All these years there had been a Tupperware container of bad language in her head, and now she opened it and all those crisp, crunchy words were fresh and lovely, ready to be used.
Why did she give up wine for Lent? Polly was more sensible.
She had given up strawberry jam. Cecilia had never seen Polly show more than a passing interest in strawberry jam, although now, of course, she was always catching her standing at the open fridge, staring at it longingly. The power of denial.
Perhaps nothing was ever “meant to be.
” There was just life, and right now, and doing your best. Being a bit “bendy.
Happy endings always made her cry. It was the relief.
They would think she was savoring the taste (blueberries, cinnamon, cream-excellent), but she was actually savoring the whole morning, trying to catch it, pin it down, keep it safe before all those precious moments became yet another memory.
Google is my best friend and my worst enemy.
It's fabulous for research, but then it becomes addictive. I'll have a character eating an orange, and next thing I'm Googling types of oranges, I'm visiting chat rooms about oranges, I'm learning the history of the orange.
Just because a marriage ended didn't mean that it hadn't been happy at times.
What if I was! That’s my point. What if I was a bit overweight and not especially pretty? Why is that so terrible? So disgusting? Why is that the end of the world?
None of us ever know all the possible courses our lives could have and maybe should have taken. It's probably just as well. Some secrets are meant to stay secret forever. Just ask Pandora.
The medication, the hormones and the relentless frustrations of our lives make us bitchy and you're not allowed to be bitchy in public or people won't like you.
He got Alice, the way we did, or maybe even more so than us.
He made her more confident, funnier, smarter. He brought out all the things that were there already and let her be fully herself, so she seemed to shine with this inner light.
She longed to feel something momentous. Sometimes her life seemed so little.
I see lots of differences between Australians and Americans - but as mothers, I think were pretty much alike!
She didn’t understand a damned thing about life except that it was arbitrary and cruel, and some people got away with murder while others made one tiny, careless mistake and paid a terrible price.
We'd traveled, we'd been to lots of parties, lots of movies and concerts, we'd slept in. We'd done all those things that people with children seem to miss so passionately. We didn't want those things anymore. We wanted a baby.
Nobody ever told you that being a mother is all about making what seemed like thousands of tiny decisions.
There were worse things to be than sexist.
For example, you could be the sort of person who pinched your fingers together while using the words “teeny weeny.
So now I just assume that it won't work, and that if it does work, I'll lose it anyway. This is meant to protect me, although it doesn't, because somehow the hope sneakily finds its way in. I'm never aware of the hope until it's gone, whooshed away like a rug pulled from under my feet, each time I hear another "I'm sorry.
They say it's good to let your grudges go, but I don't know, I'm quite fond of my grudge. I tend it like a little pet.
But maybe every life looked wonderful if all you saw was the photo albums.
It was like she was thinking, How far can I go with this? How much more can I fit in my life without losing control?
Some secrets are meant to stay secret forever.
Everyone wanted to be rich and beautiful, but the truly rich and beautiful had to pretend they were just the same as everyone else.
You’ve been here before. It won’t kill you. It feels like you can’t breathe, but you actually are breathing. It feels like you’ll never stop crying, but you actually will.
If parents had children who were good sleepers, they assumed this was due to their good parenting, not good luck.
Marriage was a form of insanity; love hovering permanently on the edge of aggravation.
Falling in love was easy.anyone could fall. It was holding on that was tricky
Then he kissed her so deeply and so completely that she felt like she was falling, floating, spiraling down, down, down, like Alice in Wonderland.
Early love is exciting and exhilarating.
It's light and bubbly. Anyone can love like that. But after three children, after a separation and a near-divorce, after you've hurt each other and forgiven each other, bored each other and surprised each other, after you've seen the worst and the best-- well, that sort of love is ineffable. It deserves its own word.