Pluck Quotes

“Pride goes before common sense.”
― Donna Morrissey, Pluck: A memoir of a Newfoundland childhood and the raucous, terrible, amazing journey to becoming a novelist

“She laughed. 'Ahh, Donna, luv, I've missed you.' She leaned forward. 'And you've no need to race anywhere; you've already won the biggest of all races--'

'What race? Aside from that screenplay competition--which is the most amazing thing ever--I've never won a thing in my life.'

'The night your father spent himself inside your mother he unleashed a billion sperm cells inside of her.'

'Oh, Jeezes, Elly--'

'That's the population of India, luv--all swimming for that one egg. And you outswam them all. There, what does that tell you--you won there, didn't you?'

'I--never quite thought of it that way.”
― Donna Morrissey, Pluck: A memoir of a Newfoundland childhood and the raucous, terrible, amazing journey to becoming a novelist

“Our tales do more than dismantle social standings and generate camaraderie and entertainment. They create a space for one's past, touching its flesh through memory and shedding a light that illuminates ourselves to ourselves and to others. Without those stories we're only half ourselves; without them that other half lurks inside like a shadow yearning for the sun.”
― Donna Morrissey, Pluck: A memoir of a Newfoundland childhood and the raucous, terrible, amazing journey to becoming a novelist

“...friends can be the caregivers of our hearts. They fill the empty chambers and warm them with cheer. They revive the spirit through hope and transform pain into learning and learning into laughter. They seek treasures from the dark and create structure out of chaos and chase the she-devil victim from our stoop. Their instruments are acceptance and understanding and they shield us with love.”
― Donna Morrissey, Pluck: A memoir of a Newfoundland childhood and the raucous, terrible, amazing journey to becoming a novelist

“It would take many reflective hours and long walks and deep readings to come to terms with what had been given to me on that night. That there is no one moment. That my dream of the three white lice had foretold what would happen. Ford's death was already approaching as we lay in our beds the night before the accident, other worlds advancing towards ours, their coming together so deeply rooted in the past that there was no beginning. From before his conception Fordie had been moving towards his death--forgive him that moment of standing behind that truck; forgive that young fellow behind the wheel whose life had brought him to that moment of distraction; forgive the collision of their worlds in that moment that continues living through the lives of others. Forgive.

Forgive me my smallness of mind in believing I could have or might have or should have changed the course of a moment that had been careening towards us for thousands of years and forgive God for shaping us all within the confines of the one transcendent moment that stretches through to eternity.”
― Donna Morrissey, Pluck: A memoir of a Newfoundland childhood and the raucous, terrible, amazing journey to becoming a novelist