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    “Tate remembered his dad’s definition of a man: one who can cry freely, feel poetry and opera in his heart, and do whatever it takes to defend a woman.”

    Delia Owens, Where The Crawdads Sing (Page 356)

      “She knew his favorite lagoons and paths through difficult quagmires; always following him at a safe distance. Sneaking about, stealing love. Never sharing it. You can’t get hurt when you love someone from the other side of an estuary.”

      Delia Owens, Where The Crawdads Sing (Page 354)

        “[Real virtue] is its own reward. Virtue is the one good that reveals itself to be more than we expect and something that one cannot have in degrees. We simply have it or we don’t. And that is why virtue—made up as it is of justice, honesty, discipline, and courage—is the only thing worth striving for.”

        Ryan Holiday, The Daily Stoic (Page 224)

          “Did we exclude Miss Clark because she was different, or was she different because we excluded her? If we had taken her in as one of our own I think that is what she would be today. If we had fed, clothed, and loved her, invited her into our churches and homes, we wouldn’t be prejudiced against her.”

          Delia Owens, Where The Crawdads Sing (Page 340)

            “When you see someone often flashing their rank or position, or someone whose name is often bandied about in public, don’t be envious; such things are bought at the expense of life… Some die on the first rungs of the ladder of success, others before they can reach the top, and the few that make it to the top of their ambition through a thousand indignities realize at the end it’s only for an inscription on their gravestone.”

            Seneca, On The Brevity Of Life, via The Daily Stoic (Page 222)

              “It can be so easy to get distracted by, even consumed by, horrible news from all over the world. The proper response of the Stoic to these events is not to not care, but mindless, meaningless sympathy to these events does very little either (and comes at the cost of one’s own serenity, in most cases). If there is something you can actually do to help these suffering people, then, yes, the disturbing news (and your reaction to it) has relevance to your reasoned choice. If emoting is the end of your participation, then you ought to get back to your own individual duty—to yourself, to your family, to your country.”

              Ryan Holiday, The Daily Stoic (Page 221)

                “It seemed that now, Kya being more vulnerable than ever, was reason to trust others even less. Standing in the most fragile place of her life, she turned to the only net she knew—herself.”

                Delia Owens, Where The Crawdads Sing (Page 285)

                Broken Gull of Brandon Beach

                  Winged soul, you danced the skies,
                  And startled dawn with shrilling cries.
                  You followed sails and braved the sea,
                  Then caught the wind back to me.
                  
                  You broke your wing; it dragged the land
                  And etched your mark upon the sand.
                  When feathers break, you cannot fly,
                  But who decides the time to die?
                  
                  You disappeared, I know not where.
                  But your wing-marks still linger there.
                  A broken heart cannot fly,
                  But who decides the time to die?

                  Delia Owens, Where The Crawdads Sing (Page 276)

                    Fading moon, follow
                    My footsteps
                    Through light unbroken
                    By land shadows,
                    And share my senses
                    That feel the cool
                    Shoulders of silence.
                    
                    Only you know
                    How one side of a moment
                    Is stretched by loneliness
                    For miles
                    To the other edge,
                    And how much sky
                    Is in one breath
                    When time slides backward
                    From the sand.

                    ~ Delia Owens, Where The Crawdads Sing (Page 214)

                      I must let go now.
                      Let you go.
                      Love is too often
                      The answer for staying.
                      Too seldom the reason
                      For going.
                      I drop the line
                      And watch you drift away.
                      
                      All along
                      You thought
                      The fiery current
                      Of your lover's breast
                      Pulled you to the deep.
                      But it was my heart-tide
                      Releasing you
                      To float adrift
                      With seaweed.

                      ~ Delia Owens, Where The Crawdads Sing (Page 213)