Moira Fowley-Doyle Quotes & Sayings

In the ghost house in the last days of the accident season, we were never going to die. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

There's this magical place,' he says with mock solemnity, 'called a library--I don't know if you've heard of it, but they have books, and also newspaper, and back issues of newspapers... — Moira Fowley-Doyle

The tear in my world is getting bigger. Soon it'll blow the whole universe apart. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

Nick looks at Alice like she's the only person on the planet he can see in full color. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

I think the we all drown, in one way or another. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

All witches keep their kisses in everyday objects, so that their hearts won't break too often. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

I am afraid of everybody else's secrets — Moira Fowley-Doyle

Accidents happen. Our bones shatter, our skin splits, our hearts break. We burn, we drown, we stay alive. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

Can you break your heart by accident, I wonder, like you can break your wrist? If so the accident season has me bruised and broken inside and out. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

I never thought that having my world blown right open would feel so goddamn good. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

We bite back the things we can't say and we cushion every surface for the inevitable moment when they all come fighting out. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

The day is still bright, but fading, like it's tired of holding on to the sun and the birdsong and the green smells of the fields just outside of town. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

There are no ghosts; only the dust in the light, our breath and the wind in the quiet, and the feeling that something, or a lot of somethings, are watching us. So maybe there are ghosts after all. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

I think that we all drown, in one way or another. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

There is a crack opening up in the middle of the kitchen table. The typewriter and the secrets box are too heavy for it. They're pulling the table down. They're opening up a hole in the floor. The whole room rips apart. There it is, large as life. Our lives are being blown wide open. — Moira Fowley-Doyle

So let's raise our glass to the accident season,
To the river beneath us where we sink our souls,
To the bruises and secrets, to the ghosts in the ceiling,
One more drink for the watery road. — Moira Fowley-Doyle