Sage Steadman

“A memory of her father flitted through her consciousness. The time he played a slow, melodic tune on the saxophone in the misty rain of the yard on a summer’s night, surrounded by the patio’s twinkling lights. She remembered peering out the window and feeling like she was catching a glimpse of another world. One that was timeless and majestic. She touched his saxophone after that as if she were touching the hand of God, wishing to hold onto that feeling forever.”

“She considered what had made Denmark home to her anyway. Was it the sense of familiarity? That wherever she went there were echoes of a hundred memories she could pluck from her thoughts?”

“She felt the depth of her losses before they were realized, and she wondered, Is there still hope? Did she even dare hold on to such a tenuous thing as hope?”

“She took comfort in the familiarity of his smell, knowing that if she lost all her possessions and her home, at least she would have her family.”

“Nothing monumental happened, the earth didn’t shake, and lightning didn’t strike. There was just a simple moment of raw emotion, unbridled and exposed to the daylight.”

“The boy’s skeletal frame was now all that remained of him, and through his flesh could be seen the steady beat of his indomitable heart.”

“Her sadness was like a deep well just beneath the surface of her determination.”

“They looked to each other for support, for strength, and at times, motivation, to remember why and for whom they lived.”

“I think it would be best if, when you’re having suicidal thoughts of stabbing yourself, that you try to think of rainbows instead.”“Rainbows?” Ann said hugging a pillow.“Yeah,” Lisa said, standing back to look at her wall art. “Ya know—happy, bright, refreshing, the calm after the storm, God’s gift to the earth.”“Or the aliens’ gift,” Ann added.“Course,” Lisa agreed. “Can’t rule that out.”

“He just wasn’t into flaunting his awesomeness, but sometimes a person’s awesomeness simply flaunts itself, even when you politely ask it not to.”

“He was not being courageous as he bore the freezing stream for his wife and children. He simply chose between the lesser of two evils—the pain and suffering he would endure in the river, a physical pain that he could stand to bear, or the pain and suffering he would feel if he had to watch his family wade across and freeze. It was not a decision. The choice had already been made the moment Ole proposed marriage to his wife and welcomed these beautiful daughters into the world.”

“You know how some people develop addictions to manage their overwhelming emotions? Some people become alcoholics, coke fiends, potheads, pill-poppers, over-eaters, sex addicts or meth-heads. Well, Ann seemed to have a similar addiction to anger, he concluded. Feeling angry served the dual purpose of keeping others at a safe distance while drowning out all other competing and overwhelming emotions.”

“In high school, though, if you call someone out on their shit you get bullied. It’s really a horrible time in life. Honestly, I don’t even know why there is an entire genre of books dedicated to it.”

“She had walked to the brink, abandoning all belief, and just before the bitter end, she was pulled from the abyss by faith.”

“That, after all, is what the great stories are written about: How people manage to find themselves in love. Well let me just say that how a person falls in love is more important than who they fall in love with, for to truly fall in love with someone else, you must first fall in love with yourself. The process a person goes through to break down his or her outer shell and let love in is often as miraculous as the mystery of falling in love.”