3 Quotes by Vila Gingerich

I wanna know something,” Lexi said. “In mystery books, clues come flying out of nowhere in every single chapter. Why is ours so slow?”I thought a second. “Books aren't like real life, I guess. Mom says we read books to escape. Like when we read Sally-Anne books, we go back to when everyone wore saddle shoes and poodle skirts and went to soda shops.

In Romania, there is only one reason to own a pig: Christmas meat. In June, small pink loaves nuzzle up to nurse from fat sows. In August, the piglets frisk about on green grass, root for hidden treasures, and bask their plump sides in the sun. In October, they lumber up to feed troughs, grunting and shoving, their cuteness mostly a memory. In December, they die.

Bucharest is a faded old gal in a raggedy coat. Once called the “Little Paris of the East,” she has long lost her finery. A few parks and buildings dream of past grandeur, but the picture is spoiled by the concrete and steel mementoes of Communism on every side.