92 Quotes by Huntley Fitzpatrick

Grace Reed: the bride at every wedding, the corpse at every wake.

I remember Mrs. Ellington watching that separation of sea and sky during our interview, Nic, Viv, and I doing the same last night, and for the first time I realize that none of us are seeing the same thing. That all our horizons end in different places.

Is it? All I know is that I can’t seem to stop – this – or slow it down. Or remember exactly why that’s what I want.

God, I hate it when people even say there are types, like people come in flavors.

More than anything in the world I want to tell him the truth. From the start, it’s been easy to tell him that, truths I’ve never told anyone. He’s always listened and understood. But there’s no way to understand this. How can he, when I don’t understand it myself.

God, I wish, for the millionth time, that I could be like her and Nic, so sure of what they have, what they want. That I didn’t always feel jangly, restless, primed to jump off a bridge and let the current carry me away.

You need to come with a goddamn YouTube instructional video.

Making love. I’ve cringed every time Hester used those words. So off and awkward and unrelated to what actually goes on between two bodies. You make breakfast, you make time, you make the team. Love? Not so much. But I get it now. Like making fire. Not rubbing two sticks together to pull something out of thin air. More like finally being able, knowing enough, to warm your hands at something you built, stick by stick.

We were doing so well there for a second.