Sarah Dessen Quotes
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The past did affect the present and the future, in ways you could see and a million ones you couldn't. Time wasn't a thing you could divide easily; there was no defined middle or beginning or end. I could pretend to leave the past behind, but it would not leave me.
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Each time, I think I'm never going to write another book. It never gets easier.
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She stroked my hair and told me I was beautiful, but I was old enough by then to know not to believe it anymore.
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So this had been all I wanted, a boy who understood how I felt. Now, though, I sometimes wished for more.
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Yeah. I mean, acknowledging is easy. Something happened or it didn't. But understanding... that's where things get sticky.
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I'm just writing what I know. I've never been much of a reader of fantasy, and I think you write what you, personally, enjoy reading.
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Now, now," my father said. "Let's just get the bags." This was typical. My father, the lone male in our estrogen-heavy household, had always dealt with any kind of emotional situation or conflict by doing something concrete and specific. Discussion of cramps and heavy flow at the breakfast table? He was up and out the door to change oil on one of our cars. Coming home in tears for reasons you just didn't want to discuss? He'd go make you a grilled cheese, which he'd probably end up eating. Family crisis brewing in a public place? Bags. Get the bags.
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When I pictured myself, it was always like just an outline in a coloring book, with the inside not yet completed. All the standard features were there. but the colors, the zigzags and plaids, the bits and pieces that made up me, Halley, weren't yet in place. Scarlett's vibrant reds and golds helped some, but I was still waiting.
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Again, it occurred to me how weird it was to be permanent in a place that to everyone else was only temporary. Like I could never be sure if they were the ones who weren't real, or if I was.
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I felt like I'd been swimming so hard, and the water growing warmer and warmer the closer I got to the top. I wasn't there yet, but now I could see the surface, rippling just beyond my fingers.
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With total strangers, it had always been my policy to expect the worst. Usually they-and those that you knew best, for that matter-did not disappoint.
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Wherever you will go, I will let you down, But this lullaby goes on.
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Home wasn't a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.
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With my mom, when someone was gone, they were gone. She didn't waste another minute thinking about them, and neither should you.
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It seemed like this day could go in so many directions, like a spiderweb shooting out toward endless possibilities.
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I don't get it,' Caroline said, bemused. 'She's the only one with wings. Why is that?' There were so many questions in life. You couldn't ever have all the answers. But I knew this one. It's so she can fly,' I said. Then I started to run.
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All you could do was take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you're lucky, there's someone close enough by to shoulder the rest.
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I mean, it's impossible to fake anything if you've already seen the other person in a way they'd never choose for you to. You can't go back from that.
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I have boobs!" Chloe said again, a bit too loudly— she'd already had a couple of mini bottles at the Spot. "My boobs are great, goddammit. You know that? They're fantastic! My boobs are amazing.
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I turned and looked into the gas station, where Wes was now paying, as the man who'd driven us looked on. "That's too bad," I said. "It's okay, though," she assured me. "Someday I'll show you an extraordinary boy, Macy. They do exist. You just have to believe me." "Don't worry," I said. "I do.
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I'd been running for years: there was nothing scarier, to me, than to just be still with someone. And yet, there on that dark road, going home, I was.
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Leaving was easy. It was everything else that was so damned hard.
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It's not forever', she'd said, but to my mother, it might as well have been. She had make her choice, and this was it, where she felt safe, in a world she could, for the most part, control.
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We were willing to do so much for the people we loved, even if it meant hurting ourselves. Maybe that, in the end, was what love- all kinds- was really about.