Leif Enger Quotes

Love is a strange fact - it hopes all things, believes all things, endures all things. It makes no sense at all.

Sometimes heroism is nothing more than patience, curiosity, and a refusal to panic.

Fair is whatever God wants to do.

I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers.

Pride is the rope God allows us all.

It is one thing to be sick of your own infirmities and another to understand that the people you love most are sick of them also. You are very near then to being friendless in the world.

Is there a single person on whom I can press belief? No sir. All I can do is say, Here's how it went. Here's what I saw. I've been there and am going back. Make of it what you will.

You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sins, you know, and cry tears while doing it that are genuine as any.

Hope is like yeast, you know, rising under warmth.

When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of earth.

Fresh peach pie can lift a bullying reprobate into apologetic courtesy; I have watched it happen.

What else exhausts like sustained deception?

Of all facial expressions, which is the worst to have aimed at you? Wouldn't you agree it's disgust?

So thoughtlessly we sling on our destinies.

Many a night I woke to the murmer of paper and knew (Dad) was up, sitting in the kitchen with frayed King James - oh, but he worked that book; he held to it like a rope ladder.

Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature.

We and the world, my children, will always be at war. Retreat is impossible. Arm yourselves.

Why is it our failures only show us more clearly the people we are failing?

Good advice is a wise man's friend, of course; but sometimes it just flies on past, and all you can do is wave.

You can’t kill history. You can’t shoot it with a bullet and watch it recede into whatever lies outside of memory. History is tougher than that—if it’s going to die, it has to die on its own

We see a newborn moth unwrapping itself and announce, Look, children, a miracle! But let an irreversible wound be knit back to seamlessness? We won't even see it, though we look at it every day.

I prayed the Lord would sort (my prayers) out and answer as needed. Above all that he would hurry.

Routine is worry's sly assassin.

Once torched by truth...a little thing like faith is easy.

Whenever I didn't know what to write next, I put a swift river in front of his horse and sent the two of them across!

You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sin, you know, and cry tears doing it that are genuine as any.

....her life would be a giddy crossword, working down from some clues and across from others.