Sue Monk Kidd Quotes - Page 7

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• Novels attempt to render human experience; that's really all they are. They are meant to convey empathy for the character.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Character, Empathy, Novel

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• The True Self is not our creation, but God's. It is the self we are in our depths. It is our capacity for divinity and transcendence.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Self, Depth, Divinity

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• Back in the autumn I had awakened to a growing darkness and cacophony, as if something in the depths were crying out. A whole chorus of voices. Orphaned voices. They seemed to speak for all the unlived parts of me, and they came with a force and dazzle that I couldn't contain. They seemed to explode the boundaries of my existence. I know now that they were the clamor of a new self struggling to be born.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Struggle, Autumn, Self

  Sue Monk Kidd (2016). “When the Heart Waits: Spiritual Direction for Life's Sacred Questions”, p.8, Harper Collins

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• I vividly remember the summer of 1964 with its voter registration drives, boiling racial tensions, and the erupting awareness of the cruelty of racism. I was never the same after that summer.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Summer, Racism, Voters

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• Sometimes you want to fall on your knees and thank God in heaven for all the poor news reporting that goes on in the world.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Fall, Heaven, Thank God

  Sue Monk Kidd (2003). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.66, Penguin

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• Drifting off to sleep, I thought about her. How nobody is perfect. How you just have to close your eyes and breathe out and let the puzzle of the human heart be what it is.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Heart, Sleep, Eye

  Sue Monk Kidd (2003). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.285, Penguin

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• We have to acknowledge sometimes that this moment is enough. This place is enough. I am enough.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Sometimes, Moments, Enough

  "Sue Monk Kidd Explains One Of Life’s Greatest Paradoxes", www.huffingtonpost.com. April 12, 2014.

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• I watched him, filled with tenderness and ache, wondering what it was that connected us. Was it the wounded places down inside people that sought each other out, that bred a kind of love between them?

  Sue Monk Kidd

  People, Kind, Wonder

  Sue Monk Kidd (2003). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.184, Penguin

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• I'd forgotten how that sort of craving felt, how it rose suddenly and loudly from the pit of my stomach like a flock of startle birds, then floated back down in the slow, beguiling way of feathers.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Rose, Bird, Pits

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• It was the first time I'd ever said the words to another person, and the sound of them broke open my heart.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Heart, Sound, Firsts

  Sue Monk Kidd (2003). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.242, Penguin

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• I marvel at how good I was before I met him, how I lived molded to the smallest space possible, my days the size of little beads that passed without passion through my fingers. So few people know what they're capable of. At forty-two I'd never done anything that took my own breath away, and I suppose now that was part of the problem - my chronic inability to astonish myself.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Passion, Two, Space

  Sue Monk Kidd (2006). “The Mermaid Chair”, p.17, Penguin

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• When had my fear of broken plates gotten so grandiose? My desire for extravagant moments so small?

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Broken, Desire, Moments

  Sue Monk Kidd (2006). “The Mermaid Chair”, p.148, Penguin

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• I wanted to know what happened when two people felt it. Would it divide the hurt in two, make it lighter to bear, the way feeling someone's joy seemed to double it?

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Hurt, Two, People

  Sue Monk Kidd (2003). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.95, Penguin

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• What matters is giving over to what you love.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  What Matters, Giving, Matter

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• The only wrong thing, perhaps, is permanently hesitating on the verge of courage.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Wrong Things, Verge

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• ... in the end, Goddess is just a word. It simply means the divine in female form.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Mean, Female, Paganism

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• I wondered what it was like to be inside her, just a curl of flesh swimming in the darkness, the quiet things that had passed between us.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Swimming, Darkness, Curls

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• I grew up in the American South and came of age in the 1960s, an incredibly turbulent time. It was as if the seams of American life were being ripped apart with riots and protests.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Age, Grew Up, Turbulent Times

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• Sunset is the saddest light there is.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Sunset, Light, Saddest

  Sue Monk Kidd (2003). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.50, Penguin

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• My mother's life was way too heavy for me.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Mother, Way, Heavy

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• You gotta imagine what's never been.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Bees, Imagine, Secret Life

  Sue Monk Kidd (2003). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.121, Penguin

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• There's nothing like a song about lost love to remind you how everything precious can slip from the hinges where you've hung it so careful.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Song, Lost Love, Careful

  FaceBook post by Sue Monk Kidd from Feb 02, 2014

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• It was the oldest sound there was. Souls flying away.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Flying, Soul, Sound

  Sue Monk Kidd (2003). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.213, Penguin

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• Up until then I'd thought that white people and colored people getting along was the big aim, but after that I decided everybody being colorless together was a better plan. I thought of that policeman, Eddie Hazelwurst, saying I'd lowered myself to be in this house of colored women, and for the very life of me I couldn't understand how it had turned out this way, how colored women had become the lowest ones on the totem pole. You only had to look at them to see how special they were, like hidden royalty among us. Eddie Hazelwurst. What a shitbucket.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  White, People, House

  Sue Monk Kidd (2011). “The Secret Life of Bees”, p.128, Hachette UK

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• To remain silent in the face of evil is itself a form of evil.

  Sue Monk Kidd

  Evil, Faces, Silent

  FaceBook post by Sue Monk Kidd from Jan 02, 2014

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