Edward Kelsey Moore Quotes & Sayings

Mama sneered at them. "I know you and Clarice are friends, but you can't tell me you don't wanna slap the livin' shit outta that mother of hers. Talk about somebody with her head stuffed way up her own ass. And that sister of hers is just as bad. As far back as I can remember, Beatrice and Gory been usin' Jesus as an excuse to be bitches." She wagged her finger at them and, like they could hear her, said, "That's right, I said it! — Edward Kelsey Moore

Something Mama liked to say: I love Jesus, but some of his representatives sure make my ass tired. — Edward Kelsey Moore

I called up to Mama, "Is this a miracle?" She raised and lowered her shoulders. Her voice drifted down, "Maybe. Or maybe this is just what's supposed to be. — Edward Kelsey Moore

I was free to appreciate the quiet and the way the yellowish-gray light of the rising sun entered the room, turning everything from black and white to color. The journey from Kansas to Oz right in my own kitchen. — Edward Kelsey Moore

Later, Barbara Jean would remember looking at those eyes and thinking, This must be what the sky looks like if you see it through a diamond. — Edward Kelsey Moore

Mrs Jackson rummaged tapped on Odette's bedroom door as Clarice rummaged through her best friend's chest of drawers searching for something to liven up, or cover up those dreadful dresses Odette always wore. The blind grandmother who had made her clothes back when she was a little girl was dead, but her grandma's style and taste lived on in Odette's sorry closet. — Edward Kelsey Moore

What we call miracles is just what's supposed to happen. We either go with it or stand in its way. — Edward Kelsey Moore

I looked around for that welcoming light I'd heard about, but I didn't see it. Instead, everything around me seemed to glow and shimmer in the sunlight. I heard beautiful sounds-not the voices of dead loved ones, but the laughter and singing of my children when they were tiny. I saw James, young and shirtless, chasing them through Mama's garden. Off in the distance I saw Barbara Jean and Clarice, and even myself when we were kids, dancing to music pouring out of my old pink and violet portable record player. Here I was with my fingers brushing up against the frame of the picture I'd been painting for the last fifty-five years, and my beautiful, scarred husband, my happy children, and my laughing friends were right there with me. — Edward Kelsey Moore

As far back as I can remember, Beatrice and Glory been usin' Jesus as an excuse to be bitches. — Edward Kelsey Moore