A previously successful writer silenced by the sledgehammer of traditional publishing is repurposed as a publisher/author by the miracle of epublishing
Wednesday, September 27, 2017
Both disturbing and enlightening
When you read a book on your kindle, Amazon knows exactly what page you are on, how long it took you to finish and any passages that were highlighted. Here are the passages that impressed the readers of "Fortune's Daughters"
The wanting of the thing was everything. Fulfillment lessened the thing desired.
“Married love is more complicated than a simple yes or no. Married love is based on different criteria than any other kind of love. You have complete and precise knowledge of the other. You know better than anyone how to hurt them. Every day, unconsciously, you add it all up and make a decision to cherish the union. Yes, I cherish our union. It works better than what most people think of as love.”
She told herself that she loved him enough for both of them, and after all, she had never been able to inspire intimacy in anyone.
“What do you mean by intimacy?” “Closeness. Physical closeness and mental closeness. Sharing of ideas, warmth, silent understanding, tenderness, touching without sexual overtones. Love. Who in your life are you intimate with?”
“That is how we think of money in this firm. It exists for the sole purpose of making more money.
The money exists not for buying groceries or paying rent. It exists for the sole purpose of making more money. The sums grow silently through the night as interest compounds, doubles, and triples. The sum staggers the imagination and people grow quiet when thinking about it and it makes them want more.
What happened to Alice Simpson after her son died was transformative, a unique gift that Billy had given to his mother in death.
In 1900, when Hope was just a toddler, there were only forty-five states. The average worker made twenty cents an hour. Fewer than 150 miles of paved highway existed in the entire United States,
stupid mistakes of the poor. The mistakes of drink, the mistake of illness gone untreated, the mistake of making do with dead-end jobs that the Jews and Italians would not take.
“There’s another kind of love that is beyond reason. It overtakes you like an illness and keeps you suspended in a kind of frightening abyss. That’s what I felt for you. The months we were together were like being suspended over an abyss.”