She liked being reminded of butterflies. She remembered being six or seven and crying over the fates of the butterflies in her yard after learning that they lived for only a few days. Her mother had comforted her and told her not to be sad for the butterflies, that just because their lives were short didn’t mean they were tragic.
~ Lisa Genova
Still Alice
I started this book Friday. It came to me unexpectedly last week and then I chose it from my leaning Tower of Pisa pile because it was the least precarious to reach. It grabbed me from the start. I could have finished it in one sitting, but I didn't. I put it down and walked away because I wanted to sit with it. The loss of Alice's memory was so sudden and swift that it didn't seem right to give her so little of my time. I have 10 pages left that I'll likely finish tonight, but Alice will be with me for a long time.
