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Perfect Glass Perfect Glass by Laura Anderson Kurk
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“All of the emotions that hit people at times like these, all of them, were coursing through us both like a secret we couldn’t tell. Because if we said everything we were thinking and feeling right then…if we laid it all out for one another…we might not like the way the words strung together. Or the way fear and hope and bitterness and love mashed up into one big mess in the pits of our stomachs.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I reached down and picked up a baseball bat at my feet and I flung it as hard as it could. It circled and arced high in the air until it slammed against the side of the dining hall with a crack and fell.
I sat down in the dirt. Then I lay down in the dirt.
Because not only was there no trail to follow, there was no evidence he’d ever been here.
There was no evidence any of them had been here.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I’d felt this before, when my granddad was in the hospital before he died. We all camped out in the waiting room, eating our meals together, most of us sleeping in the chairs every night. Family from far-flung places would arrive at odd hours and we’d all stand and stretch, hug, get reacquainted, and pass the babies around.
A faint, pale stream of beauty and joy flowed through the heavy sludge of fear and grief. It was kind of like those puddles of oil you see in parking lots that look ugly until the sun hits them and you see rainbows pulling together in the middle of the mess.
And wasn’t that just how life usually felt—a confusing swirl of ugly and rainbow?”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I’d stumbled upon the inner sanctuary of a woman who loved the world. Loved the faces of people she saw. Loved the way a hand looked when it was relaxed. Loved the way a woman looked when she touched her own face. The way a man looked when he opened himself to her. Loved the way wind changed a tree or a field or a child’s hair. The beauty of a neck meeting a shoulder. The softness of a smile that wasn’t forced.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“In my mind, I saw a string stretching from Henry’s heart at Quiet Waters to my heart. It was taut and it vibrated with Henry’s worries and fears and I felt them all.
Deeply. I felt them all.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I won’t forget it,” I said. “I hope you meet someone perfect one day.”
“Ha…yeah, that’s just it. I think I already did.” As we opened our doors to step out, he touched my arm. “Just to be clear, if I, like, leaned over and whispered your name in your ear, still nothing?”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“But with her eyes closed, she began to whisper. “If you have someone to love, then love. If you have someone to forgive, then forgive. You think, when you’re seventeen, there’s time enough for that, but there’s not. There’s no time at all.”
I squeezed her hand, trying to think of how to respond. But she took the burden from me and kept whispering. “You want to know why God gave us people to love? Because that’s the only way we can understand how he feels about us. Desperate and jealous.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“For a second, I stared at the map of her veins just under the surface of her thin skin. It was like her body was trying to become diaphanous. Instead of getting harder and stronger and full of life as we age, we disappear slowly. Our skin thins and evaporates. Our nails barely coat our fingertips. Our hair falls out. We are never more see-through.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“Okay, news flash. Jealousy is not something I enjoy. I hadn’t felt it much before. But I’d also never been in love. And I’d never been 3,300 miles away from the girl I loved while some punk sat next to her on a couch. A punk who had designs on her, according to Dylan. I needed to lay eyes on this guy.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“The first thing I needed, possibly the only thing, was to kiss her and I did, for as long as I could. I let us both breathe for a minute, and I perched her on a counter so I could touch the face I’d missed so much.
I poured every bit of frustration, anger, sadness, and worry into that kiss. Meg understood and received it all, pushing her fingers into my hair and giggling against my lips. I didn’t care that anybody passing by could be watching us through the window, or that I could fall right there and sleep for a week.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“Do you know how hard it is to paint kindness?” She leaned her hip against a desk in the corner of the room, still watching me. “It’s the only part of a person I really want to capture. Everything else seems to get lost in layers of deception or defensiveness. But not kindness. You can’t hide it. And people either are or they aren’t.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“You look incredible, Kavanagh,” Quinn whispered close to my ear. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Ssshhh,” I hissed. “They’re going to hear you.”
“I can’t tell my date she’s beautiful?”
I turned my head. “No. No, you can’t.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“Quinn spoke their language—all mystery and inside jokes, scarred souls and statement shirts. It was a beautiful moment for him—in his element and completely happy.
When they started playing, he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “See that guitar?”
I nodded.
“That’s a 1969 Martin D28. Hear me when I say if I had to choose between a beautiful girl and that guitar, I’d choose the guitar. Natch.” He took a huge gulp of water, clearly affected.
“Naturally,” I whispered. “It could be why you’re still single.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I couldn’t stop crying because it was so intimate, in that way I always thought being physical with him would feel. If someone had walked in they might have thought Henry was barely touching me. I knew the truth of it.
He was laying me open and bare to him and to God.
There wasn’t a more intimate act. I would never recover from this.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I thought back to Meg’s advice about Hemingway sentences—simple declarative statements that showed the truth and distilled the meaning. My first attempt at that had been cynical and messed up. I gave it a go again.
Find one lost sheep.
The angels rejoice.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I needed out. The Jeep wasn’t fast enough. I shut it down, grabbed the keys and started running like a bear was at my heels. I couldn’t even see Henry anymore through my tears so it surprised me when he caught me in his arms halfway. The first thing I did was pound on his chest and ask him why he hadn’t called. The second thing I did was kiss him so hard he couldn’t answer me.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“He was taking a leap here, negotiating with a crackhead, under the table, in a dark cantina. The courage etched on his face came from loving Aidia so much he’d close his eyes and walk through fire to see her safe.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“We formed an impromptu circle just so we could look at each other and memorize faces. We hardly noticed the waiting officials. We hardly noticed anything but our little family whose ties weren’t loosening at all. In fact, this impending separation only seemed to be binding us together with a double overhand knot, hard to untie and unfailing.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“My dad used to say, ‘This is what your right arm’s for, son,’” John said. “This is the time and these are the people and I’d give my right arm to be a light, a comfort, to them. I know you would, too. In whatever form it takes. Use these materials and make something great. Do it on faith, knowing you probably won’t be around to see how the story ends.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I’m not sure about all the particulars that led to this moment. Do I believe life is a series of dots to be connected…or that no one can outrun destiny…or that all roads lead to truth and coincidence is a lie to distract us? The reason I was in this place no longer mattered. The harsh reality stared me in the face and demanded an immediate decision. Walk away and blame it on my age. Or stay and try to help a woman who had slowly become my friend over the last few weeks.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“Wait,” Quinn said. “There’s one more thing.”
I turned around and raised an eyebrow. His eyes were wary and he lacked his usual confidence.
“Go to the Winter Dance with me.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“Camus and Henry waved to me from that muddy truck. They both wanted me to get over myself.
So, this was me, getting over myself. And it was about time.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“And what do you want?”
I almost choked. “How could you even ask me that, Henry?”
He sighed. “Because I’m thousands of miles away. Because I Skyped into your living room late one night and there’s a dude sitting next to you in the dark. Because Thanet tells me things. And Tennyson sent me a picture of you in a dress that looks like lingerie.”
“It’s not that bad,” I said.
“I didn’t say it was bad, Meg. It’s about a million miles from bad.” His voice was breaking with exasperation. “Things are crazy here, and I’m questioning everything.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“Her problem is with pretty,” Tennyson said. "She thinks I’ll need all these dresses in college. Like I would ever in a billion years pledge a sorority. I’ll pack a few of these to be ironic, though. I can wear them to, like, truck stops at night with mascara running down my cheeks and stuff.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“My mom told me once that Wyatt loved her the way a boy will love his mother, but I loved her the way an artist loves another. Jo taught me what that meant.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“Look at this one.” I picked up a small painting of a man with dark hair and a short, dark beard. He wore a loose shirt, cobalt blue, unbuttoned at the top, showing a prominent, knobby collarbone. He looked…complicated and hungry. She’d captured him focused intensely on a book, his face pressed against a wall like he was resting. Or waiting.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“Hold still, Meg, you’re dripping blood on my car seats.”
I reached behind the passenger seat of Tennyson’s car looking for the white sheet she’d thrown in for mopping up bodily fluids. Quinn, sitting in the back seat, read my mind and handed it to me.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” He leaned forward, pulling a corner of the sheet up to wipe off a small stream of blood on my neck. “You okay?”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“I really want to believe that when our Quiet Waters kids wake up in the middle of the night, scared, they’ll remember being in their bunks with John and Kate and Whit and me right there protecting them,” he said. “I hope we gave them that sense of belonging because I know there’ll be times in their lives when grasping at those bonds could mean the difference between making it and not.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“What I know about you, Henry,” he said. “Is that you, as big as you are, know how to walk gently on this earth.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass
“He smiled and squinted at me again, tilting his head up and to the right as he stared. “Maybe what I’m attracted to in you is more than your looks and your brain and your humor.” He leaned closer like he had a secret. “It could be your soul,” he whispered.
I pushed his cheek until he was squinting at the door to the kitchen instead. “Is this when you tell me I’m your soul mate, O’Neill?”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

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