Quotes about Atlantic books

Explore a curated collection of 19 quotes about Atlantic books at QuotesRead.com. Discover timeless wisdom, insightful thoughts, and memorable words on Atlantic books from famous authors and thinkers around the world.

It’s as if he’s trodden in my footsteps, seen what I’ve seen, felt what I’ve felt, as I’ve criss-crossed the moors count — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
They stole you from me. They took you away for seven years. Your entire lifetime. A life sentence. The waiting has been — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
Make no mistake, my darling. I am coming for you. I will take you back. — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
Where I’m taking you, no one will ever find us. We’ll have all the time in the world for you to grow to love me as much — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
Tesco at the best of times is soulless – but it’s so much worse at 6 in the morning. It’s not as empty as I thought it w — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
Mum, your heart is the same size as your fist,’ she told me once in delight, and we both made our hands into fists and h — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
I don’t believe he was deliberately taking indecent pictures, they’re too artistic; he’s managed to capture that magical — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
She said that the mummy and the daddy took their daughter up onto the moor. They had a picnic. They’d brought all of her — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
I can’t believe I ever thought reading to her was a chore. I’d sit here some nights, fidgeting, thinking of all the thin — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
Here we are, squabbling over tuna fucking sandwiches and there she is – almond-shaped green eyes, snub nose, lopsided gr — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
Evie is our beautiful, dark-haired, green-eyed child,’ I say. I can hear the tremor in my voice. ‘Like many seven-year-o — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
She shivers. ‘I can’t understand why anyone would want to live out there. You’d be totally isolated.’
 I do. I could ima — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
My husband hands me my glass, full to the brim with green-gold wine and I stifle my resentment and attempt to smile at h — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
The moor has always been part of my life. It’s like a muse: the colours of the heather and the sky; how you can see the — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
Hello my darling, I’m your real father. I’ve been searching for you ever since you were stolen from me. I love you so mu — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
It’s quiet in the suburbs. It’s too cold for people to be in their gardens; and it’s not a thoroughfare so few cars driv — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
The dark edge of the moor and the Cow and Calf rock are crisp against the blue-black sky. I can’t see anyone outside, wa — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
I think about the story I always tell her – of the kind lady who gave her to us. I suppose that must be how she imagines — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
He places the skull in the palm of my hand. There are four canines; the top two are so long and curved I can feel them p — Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child