Everything was quiet, a strange sort of quiet that felt like an unfinished sentence. — Sarah Addison Allen
There was a certain power beautiful mothers held over their less beautiful daughters. — Sarah Addison Allen
It was early evening when they walked outside, the sky the color of pink lemonade. — Sarah Addison Allen
It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon. — Sarah Addison Allen