Reckless Dreamer
by Dion Alden | Romance | This book has not been rated.
ISBN: 055325264x Global Overview for this book
ISBN: 055325264x Global Overview for this book
2 journalers for this copy...
Rescued from Gomboggit's house. She sent me a box of books.
Pre-numbered label used for registration.
Randomly chosen to be next after Isle of Palms by Dorothea Benton Franks c. 2003
I collect quotes as I read. Sometimes they are enlightening, sometimes cliche, but hey it works for me ... The quote is not necessarily the best in the book, but happens to be close where I stopped reading at night
"They got up from the table. Alison kissed her mother goodnight and went to her room under the eaves, where she could hear the rain falling on the roof and had the comfort of a good New England storm to remind her who she was and where she was from." p226
[why this quote? it reminds of the times I read in bed with the noise of rain on a tin roof above. bliss!]
"She picked 'Our Town', though she wasn't sure why. Was it the New Englander's homesickness, a longing for some scent of pine and lilac in the middle of diesel and mimosa? Or was it because she missed her father, thought about him a lot, and was losing touch with him? p113
"Baby," her father had cautioned her, "never take anything for granted. Not this day, nor the way we live, not our love for each other. Happiness is not just given. It is earned." p53
I collect quotes as I read. Sometimes they are enlightening, sometimes cliche, but hey it works for me ... The quote is not necessarily the best in the book, but happens to be close where I stopped reading at night
"They got up from the table. Alison kissed her mother goodnight and went to her room under the eaves, where she could hear the rain falling on the roof and had the comfort of a good New England storm to remind her who she was and where she was from." p226
[why this quote? it reminds of the times I read in bed with the noise of rain on a tin roof above. bliss!]
"She picked 'Our Town', though she wasn't sure why. Was it the New Englander's homesickness, a longing for some scent of pine and lilac in the middle of diesel and mimosa? Or was it because she missed her father, thought about him a lot, and was losing touch with him? p113
"Baby," her father had cautioned her, "never take anything for granted. Not this day, nor the way we live, not our love for each other. Happiness is not just given. It is earned." p53