Audrey Niffenegger

“I want my own bed, in my own apartment. Home sweet home. No place like home. Take me home, country roads. Home is where the heart is. But my heart is here. So I must be home.”

“I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work until I'm tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. Everything seems simple until you think about it. Why is love intensified by abscence?”

“There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.”

“I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room”

“We are often insane with happiness. We are also very unhappy for reasons neither of us can do anything about. Like being separated.”

“Right now we are here, and nothing can mar our perfection, or steal the joy of this perfect moment.”

“‎I never wanted to have anything in my life that I couldn't stand losing. But it's too late for that.”

“Each spine was an encapsulated memory, each book represented hours, days of pleasure, of immersion into words.”

“Why is love intensified by absence?”

“one of the best and the most painful things about time traveling has been the opportunity to see my mother alive.”

“Even her name seemed empty, as though it had detached itself from her and was floating untethered in his mind. How am I supposed to live without you? It was not a matter of the body; his body would carry on as usual. The problem was located in the word how: he would live, but without Elspeth the flavour, the manner, the method of living were lost to him. He would have to relearn solitude.”

“I won't ever leave you, even though you're always leaving me.”

“To world enough and time.”

“I sit quietly and think about my mom. It's funny how memory erodes, If all I had to work from were my childhood memories, my knowledge of my mother would be faded and soft, with a few sharp memories standing out.”

“Clare, I want to tell you, again, I love you. Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust. Tonight I feel that my love for you has more density in this world than I do, myself: as though it could linger on after me and surround you, keep you, hold you.”

“The Garden Under Snow "Now the garden is under snow a blank page our footprints write onclare who was never minebut always belonged to herselfSleeping Beautya crystalline blanketthis is her springthis is her sleeping/awakeningshe is waitingeverything is waitingthe improbable shapes of rootsmy babyher facea garden, waiting.”

“But I don't want to just believe it, I want it to be true.”

“It’s dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing.”

“Mama said, "Dreams are different to real life but important too.”

“Knowing the future is different from being told what I like.”