I drop to the curb like childhood leaving a body. — Lidia Yuknavitch, Dora: A Headcase
I drop to the curb like childhood leaving a body. — Lidia Yuknavitch, Dora: A Headcase
I drop to the curb like childhood leaving a body. — Lidia Yuknavitch, Dora: A Headcase
I drop to the curb like childhood leaving a body. — Lidia Yuknavitch, Dora: A Headcase
I drop to the curb like childhood leaving a body. — Lidia Yuknavitch, Dora: A Headcase
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I drop to the curb like childhood leaving a body.

— Lidia Yuknavitch, Dora: A Headcase
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childhood dora a headcase lidia yuknavitch

More “Childhood” Quotes

There always comes the day when children swallowthe key to the door of secrecy. They’ll not return it. — Milan Rúfus, And That's the Truth!
It must have been an endless breathing in: between the wish to know and the wish to praise there was no seam. — Margaret Atwood, The Door
You can go other places, all right - you can live on the other side of the world, but you can't ever leave home — Sue Monk Kidd, The Mermaid Chair
This was the part of the road he knew best, the part his old blue Schwinn had known so well that at one time, the bike m — Seré Prince Halverson, All the Winters After
I didn't grow up in a Norman Rockwell house... my house was more akin to Norman Lear. — michael p naughton
He had been haunted his whole life by a mildcase of claustrophobia—the vestige of a childhood incident he had never quit — Dan Brown, Angels & Demons
The thing I miss most from home, is having a home. — Anthony Liccione
There would remain no sign of you ever having played in this house. Your childhood is going to be swept under a camel-sk — Kunal Sen
To observe is not to not feel—in fact, it is to put yourself at the mercy of feeling, like the child's warm skin meeting — Rachel Cusk, Aftermath: On Marriage and Separation
as a childi supposei was not quitenormal.my happiest times werewheni was left alone inthe house on asaturday. — Charles Bukowski
Heaven lies around us in our infancy. — William Golding, Darkness Visible
Running in the wind, in the pollen and dust, a flower in flight — Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita