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At every wedding someone stays home.
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I think part of the problem sometimes is that there's so much happening in my books, to whittle it down into a single script is hard.
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And for one second, it was like I could feel the timing clicking together, finally pieces falling into place.
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I realized how truly hard it was, really, to see someone you love change right before your eyes. Not only is it scary, it throws your balance off as well.
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"I just don't know," I said, my voice sounding bumby, not like mine, "how do you help someone who doesn't want your help. What do you do when you can't do anything?"
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If this was my forever, I wouldn't want to spend it here.
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I'm always hopeful. I feel like I'm at the prom sitting against the wall waiting for someone to ask me to dance.
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The fate of your heart is your choice and no one else gets a vote
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She said writting novels was like childbirth: if you truly remembered how awful it got, you'd never do it again.
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Maybe we were all destined to just keep doing the same stupid things, over and over again, never really learning a single thing.
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Not for the first time, I wished both of us could just say what we meant. But that, like so much else, was impossible
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Even if you do make tons of new friends,” I told him, “try not to forget where you came from, okay?
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That was the thing. You just never knew. Forever was so many different things. It was always changing, it was what everything was really all about.
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Here was a boy who liked flaws, who saw them not as failings but as strengths. Who knew such a person could exist, or what would have happened if we'd found each other under different circumstances? Maybe in a perfect world. But not in this one.
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It was just perfect, just right all at once.
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The mistakes you make now count. Not for everything, and not forever. But they do matter, and they shape you.
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When you had to do something, you had to do it. And eventually, if you were lucky, you did it well.
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Remy: Did you really believe, that first day, that we were meant to be together? Dexter: You're here, aren't you?
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It sounded stupid, but of course everything does when you're just getting the bare bones facts, only the basics.
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You can't make any one person your world. The trick is to take what each can give you and build a world from it.
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You want me to give her a key?" the guy asked. "I want you to give her a possibility," she told him, looking at my necklace again. "And that's what a key represents. An open door, a chance. You know?
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Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that's what makes you strong.
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So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.
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Because anyone that can make you feel that bad about yourself is toxic.