Sarah Dessen Quotes
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My dad is a retired Shakespeare professor, my mother a retired classicist. Suffice to say I grew up in a house full of books, where reading was encouraged if not required.
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It's not always easy being her daughter.' I think,' she said, 'sometimes it's hard no matter whose daughter you are.
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She was just a shell of her former self, functioning and talking but hardly alive.
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But something, somehow, had made all these paths converge. You couldn't find it on a checklist, or work it into the equation. It just happened.
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I was just stock in the middle, vague and undefined.
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So what do you wear to dump somebody?" she asked me, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. "Black, for mourning? Or something cheerful and colorful, to distract them from their pain? Or maybe you wear some sort of camouflage, something that will help you disappear quickly in case they don't take it well.
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D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, Austin... and you. I'll be there soon.
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Morgan sighed. "I," she announced, "am so pathetic." "You are not," I said. "I am." She went over and straightened the cling wrap, corner to corner. "Do you know how many times I've brought in devilled eggs? This is, like, the only time I haven't been sobbing and that's only 'cause I cried all night. And Norman," she said, her voice rising to a wail, "sweet Norman, always just acts so surprised to see the eggs, and pleased, and he never, once, has ever acted like he knew what they meant."
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I was so thrilled that I was having a girl, because I just am so girly myself, but I think the teenage years are going to be very interesting.
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When I was a teen, I was never really into the captain of the football team or the student body president. The guys I liked were quirky and different: They listened to music I'd never heard of, never had lunch or gas money, and could always make you laugh.
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Then I'd crawl back into bed, smelling her all around me, and tell myself that next time, I would lock that window. But I never did.
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Like life isn't complicated enough. You should at least be able to follow the signs.
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It was amazing how you could get so far from where you'd planned, and yet find it was exactly were you needed to be.
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How weird was it that so many bits and pieces, all diverse, could make something whole. Something with potential. 'Perfect.
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You punched him by accident.
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You didn't have to take a punch for me, you know,' he said. 'I'm a lover, not a fighter.' 'You're a freak is what you are,' I said.
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Editing is hard but nowhere NEAR as tough as facing that blank page and blinking cursor each day. You're all alone and no one else can do it. At least with editing you have someone in the trench with you.
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...You can't unlearn something, even if you want to. You know what you know.
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So many versions of just one memory, and yet none of them were right or wrong. Instead, they were all pieces. Only when fitted together, edge to edge, could they even begin to tell the whole story.
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The girl in the tight black dress was passing by us now, eyeing Wes and walking entirely too slowly. "Hi," she said, and he nodded at her but didn't reply. Knew it, I thought. Honestly," I said. What?" Come on. You have to admit, it's sort of ridiculous." What is?" Now that I had to define it, I found myself struggling for the right words. "You know," I said, then figured Kristy had really summed it up best. "The sa-woon." The what?
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I write thank-you notes the minute I throw the wrapping paper away.
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Now, see," Wes said, nodding at my plate, "this is going to blow your mind." I looked at him. "It's a waffle, not the second coming.
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It's a lot easier to be lost than found. It's the reason we're always searching and rarely discovered--so many locks not enough keys.
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Love is needing someone. Love is putting up with someone's bad qualities because they somehow complete you.