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

I finally understood why so much monkey business happened in the backs of buses. Put us in proximity, with wheels spinning under us, and nothing to do but wait, we’re going to start thinking of lovely uses for our bodies. I don’t care who you are.

— Laura Anderson Kurk

I found I could only glance at him for tiny moments, and then I had to look away. He was perfect enough to hurt my feelings for a long time, and I wanted to let him.

— Laura Anderson Kurk

I get that. For you, it’s more than following a bunch of rules—no sex, no booze, no swear words, pray every night and twice on Sunday.

— Laura Anderson Kurk

I meant that the hatred of that July day in Nashville was alive and well on that horrible day in Pittsburgh. People hate others so they strike like snakes. It’s all connected—we’re all connected, bumping around into each other, some of us good, some bad, most a mixture. Every thought acted upon has consequences. Every one.

— Laura Anderson Kurk

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

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 any more 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

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

I pretended to be a Cheyenne guide. I pretended to be a prairie woman. Furthermore, I pretended Henry was my old-timey husband taking me to our new homestead. Furthermore, I leaned down and patted Trouble’s neck. “Good boy,” I said. “Trusty steed.

— Laura Anderson Kurk

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