Benjamin Alire Saenz Quotes
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One of my roommates, Rafael, he's an expert on monsters. Not that he talks about them. I can just tell. People who have monsters recognize each other. They know each other without even saying a word.
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But there she was, sobbing for Yolie, and he wondered why some people stayed soft no matter what happened to them.
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I do not know what it means to be okay. I have never known and maybe I will never know. Okay is just a word I use so I won't have to talk about what's inside. Okay is a word that means I am going to keep my secrets.
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That was the first time that I really saw my mother as a person. A person who was so much more than just my mother. It was strange to think of her that way.
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If you want to be alive, you can’t avoid pain.
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When I hung up the phone, I felt a little sad. And a little happy. For a few minutes I wished that Dante and I lived in the universe of boys instead of the universe of almost-men.
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I hated being volunteered. The problem with my life was that it was someone else's idea.
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I’ll leave a note to the rector of the cathedral and remind him that a woman gave him birth. Something for him to think about the next time he gives one of his sermons. I’m writing all this down.
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Words were not things you could control. Not always.
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What did school matter compared to a sister?
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You know, the thing about not talking very much is that people think you’re mature. They make things up about you.
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Her fading voice was the one I heard the loudest.
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Some day we’ll all be happy. I promise you. And there won’t be any more fighting.
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My mother watched me. It was true. I had never loved her more.
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Dogs don't censor themselves. Maybe animals were smarter than people. The dog was so happy. My mom and dad too. It felt good to know that they loved the dog, that they let themselves do that. And somehow it seemed that the dog helped us be a better family.
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One summer night I fell asleep hoping the world would be different when I woke. In the morning, when I opened my eyes, the world was the same.
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I had this image stuck in my mind. I was four and I was walking down the street, holding my brother’s hand. I wondered if it was a memory or a dream. Or a hope.
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We work together in publishing--big publishers, small publishers. We are a community and must think of ourselves as a community, instead of being in love with the idea of the talented individual. Language belongs to us.
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Even though summers were mostly made of sun and heat, summers for me were about the storms that came and went. And left me feeling alone. Did all boys feel alone? The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.
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Living is an art, not a science.
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It made me smile, the way they got along, the easy and affectionate way they talked to each other as if love between a father and a son was simple and uncomplicated. My mom and I, sometimes what we had was easy and uncomplicated. Sometimes. But me and my dad, we didn't have that. I wondered what that would be like, to walk into a room and kiss my father.
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I lost myself somewhere. And that’s a very sad thing. Losing yourself is sad and heartbreaking. Fucking sad and fucking heartbreaking. Losing yourself isn’t like losing a key to your house. It isn’t like losing an expensive pair of sunglasses or even the only copy of the greatest screenplay you’ve ever written.
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What will it be like, to die? What kind of light is there in death? Perhaps there will only be darkness. Perhaps there is nothing but a long, long night. Nothing but a long, long night.
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I wondered what that was like, to hold someone’s hand. I bet you could sometimes find all of the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand.