Everybody needs a seashell in her bathroom to remind her the

Everybody needs a seashell in her bathroom to remind her the ocean is her home.

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In "The Secret Life of Bees," Sue Monk Kidd emphasizes the connection between individuals and nature through the imagery of a seashell. The seashell serves as a symbolic reminder of the ocean, representing a place of comfort and belonging. It suggests that everyone should have a tangible object that links them to their roots and memories, emphasizing the importance of spaces that evoke personal history and emotional ties.

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The Secret Life of Bees

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Sue Monk Kidd

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March 20, 2025

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But she always said that women are simply the better beekeepers because they are innate to love creatures that hurt them.

I envied the turtle around their tanks in which they could disappear at any time.

People who think dying is the worst thing don't know a thing about life. My

I had often heard as Agusta said: if you need something from someone then build the other a bruecke on which you can meet.

A barge of mist floated along the water, and dragonflies, iridescent blue ones, darted back and forth like they were stitching up the air.

When I looked up through the web of trees, the night fell over me, and for a moment I lost my boundaries, feeling like the sky was my own skin and the moon was my heart beating up there in the dark.

All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important.

All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important.

Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth!

Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth!

"Philip Sharpe was a soldier in God's army," says the minister. "Now he marches with the angels."

"Philip Sharpe was a soldier in God's army," says the minister. "Now he marches with the angels."

For me the curse is a crutch, but the con is everything.

For me the curse is a crutch, but the con is everything.

On the way out to the car, Philip turns to me. "How could you be so stupid?" I shrug, stung in spite of myself. "I thought I grew out of it." Philip pulls out his key fob and presses the remote to unlock his Mercedes. I slide into the passenger side, brushing coffee cups off the seat and onto the floor mat, where crumpled printouts from MapQuest soak up any spilled liquid. "I hope you mean sleepwalking," Philip says, "since you obviously didn't grow out of stupid."

On the way out to the car, Philip turns to me. "How could you be so stupid?" I shrug, stung in spite of myself. "I thought I grew out of it." Philip pulls out his key fob and presses the remote to unlock his Mercedes. I slide into the passenger side, brushing coffee cups off the seat and onto the floor mat, where crumpled printouts from MapQuest soak up any spilled liquid. "I hope you mean sleepwalking," Philip says, "since you obviously didn't grow out of stupid."

I don't have anything against God. Far from it. But I don't understand Him. And I don't trust a lot of the people that go around claiming that they're working in His best interests.