Rainbow RowellThinkers

The Mother is like a god in that there’s nothing more profound or intoxicating than creating something out of nothing, of creating something from oneself.

November is a month whose days are cold and crisp, but not quite freezing, not icy.

October is a month that baptizes one with leaves, swaddles one in corduroy and nurses one with split pea soup.

October tucks tiny candy bars in one's pockets.