Quotes by Amy Harmon

Everybody is a main character to someone...

Ive been in love with you since you helped me bury that spider in my garden, and you sang with me like we were singing “Amazing Grace” instead of “The Itsy, Bitsy Spider.” Ive loved you since you quoted Hamlet like you understood him, since you said you loved ferris wheels more than roller coasters because life shouldnt be lived at full speed, but in anticipation and appreciation. I read and re-read your letters to Rita because I felt like youd opened up a little window into your soul, and the light was pouring out with every word. They werent even for me, but it didnt matter. I loved every word, every thought, and I loved you . . . so much.

I dont think we get answers to every question. We dont get all the whys. But I think when we look back to the end of our lives, if we do the best we can, and we will see that the things we begged God to take from us, the things we cursed him for, the things that made us turn our backs on him, are the things that were the biggest blessings, the biggest opportunities for growth.

True beauty, the kind that doesnt fade or wash off, takes time. It takes incredible endurance. It is the slow drip that creates the stalactite, the shaking of the Earth that creates mountains, the constant pounding of the waves that breaks up the rocks and smooths the rough edges. And from the violence, the furor, the raging of the winds, the roaring of the waters, something better emerges, something that would have otherwise never existed.And so we endure. We have faith that there is purpose. We hope for things we cant see. We believe there are lessons in loss, power in love, and that we have within us the potential for a beauty so magnificent, our bodies cant contain it.

With our hands, we reach for things we shouldnt have and we grasp what isnt ours. The way I have always reached for you.

Fear is strange. It settles on chests and seeps through skin, through layers of tissue, muscle, and bone and collects in a soul-sized black hole, sucking the joy out of life, the pleasure, the beauty. But not the hope. Somehow, the hope is the only thing resistant to the fear, and it is that hope that makes the next breath possible, the next step, the next tiny act of rebellion, even if that rebellion is simply staying alive.

People liked religion but they didnt want to have to excercise any faith. Religion was comforting with all its structure and its rules. It made people feel safe. But faith wasnt safe. Faith was hard and uncomfortable and forced people to step out on a limb.

Often-times, grass was more useful than gold. Man was more desirable than a beast. Chance was more seductive than knowledge, and eternal life was completely meaningless without love.

I want to do the right things for the right reasons. Not because someone will judge or someone else will wonder. Not because of tradition or pressure. Not because Im afraid or embarrassed to do anything else. And not because its what people expect. I want to do his will. But that is what I struggle with most, knowing what his will really is. Not his will according to the Catholic Church, but his will.

She had almost felt relieved when she was arrested. The thing she had dreaded, feared, run from had happened. When it came, she was strangely liberated from the fear. She couldnt dread what had already come to pass. She didnt have to anticipate the horror when the horror was right there. With her arrest came a certain calm, a quiet comfort. It had come. She had known it would and she could stop fighting.

Maybe people had no choice but I wonder sometimes what would have happened if everyone without a choice would have made a choice anyway. If we all chose not to participate. Not to be bullied. Not to take up arms. Not to persecute. What would happen then?

The longer he remained on this earth, the more he was sure that mankind had no clue about God or heaven. Not when they used him as an excuse to kill, to punish, to discriminate.

We are at war. War has a way of stripping us of perspective. War is about life and death, and it paints everything in shades of now or never.

But maybe you see beauty in me because you are beautiful, not because I am.

True beauty, the kind that doesnt fade or wash off, takes time. It takes pressure. It takes incredible endurance. It is the slow drip that makes the stalactite, the shaking of the Earth that creates mountains, the constant pounding of the waves that breaks up the rocks and smooths the rough edges. And from the violence, the furor, the raging of the winds, the roaring of the waters, something better emerges, something that would otherwise never exist.And so we endure. We have faith that there is purpose. We hope for things we cant see. We believe that there are lessons in loss, power in love, and that we have within us the potential for a beauty so magnificent that our bodies cant contain it

. . . death isn’t anything I need to be afraid of. I’m not a perfect man. But I think I’m a good man. I’ve lived a hell of a life, even with all the heartache. Millie told me once that the ability to devastate is what makes a song beautiful. Maybe that’s what makes life beautiful too. The ability to devastate. Maybe that’s how we know we’ve lived. How we know we’ve truly loved.”“The ability to devastate,” I repeated. And my voice broke. If that wasn’t a perfect description of the agony of love, I didn’t know what was.

You act like beauty is the only thing that makes us worthy of love.

She wondered how it would feel to be beautiful and have it taken away. How much harder would it be than never knowing what it felt like in the first place?

True beauty, the kind that doesn’t fade or wash off, takes time. It takes pressure. It takes incredible endurance. It is the slow drip that makes the stalactite, the shaking of the earth that creates mountains, the constant pounding of the waves that break up the rocks and smooths the rough edges. And from the violence, the furor, the raging of the winds, the roaring of the waters, something better emerges, something that would otherwise never exist.And so we endure. We have faith that there is purpose. We hope for things we cant see. We believe that there are lessons in loss, power in love, and that we have within us the potential for a beauty so magnificent that our bodies cant contain it.

Think about it. There isnt heartache if there hasnt been joy. I wouldnt feel loss if there hadnt been love. You couldnt take my pain away without removing Bailey from my heart. I would rather have this pain now then never have known him. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.