Benjamin Alire Saenz Quotes
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The world had changed. And this new world was quiet and sad.
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I have this idea stuck in my head that you have to be born beautiful in order to dream beautiful things. God didn't write beautiful on my heart. I'm stuck with all my bad dreams. Bad dreams for bad boys. I guess that's the way it is for me. Look, there's nothing I can do about it.
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There are more songs living inside her than there are leaves on her tree.
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He hoped the dead couldn’t see the living. He hoped his mother couldn’t see what was happening to them. She didn’t deserve to see this.
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I didn't know what to do with that piece of information. So I just kept it inside. That's what I did with everything. Kept it inside.
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But the thing is that I’m in love with Rafael’s story. I think I understand when Adam says that all our stories are different but in some ways our stories are all the same. I never really got that. But when I start to read Rafael’s journal, it’s as if I can see myself. It’s better than a mirror.
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The problem is not that I don't love my mother and father. The problem is that I don't know how to love them.
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My mom, she sometimes resided in the space between irony and sincerity.
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I live in an ecotone. Employment must coexist with goofing off. Responsibility must coexist with irresponsibility.
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His sadness was unbearable to watch. Far worse than his rage. He looked so defeated in that sorrow—like he was surrendering, like the battle was too much.
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I think I’m the stupidest smart boy who ever lived.
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Summer had come and gone. Summer had come and gone. And the world was ending.
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I’m not into all this academic stuff. Too much analysis. What ever happened to reading a book because you liked it?
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I stared at the reproduced mural in the book--but I was more interested in his finger as he tapped the book with approval. That finger had pulled a trigger in a war. That finger had touched my mother in tender ways I did not fully comprehend. I wanted to talk, to say something, to ask questions. But I couldn't. All the words were stuck in my throat. So I just nodded.
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All my friends thought I was a very happy human being. Because that's how I acted- like a really happy human being. But all that pretending made me tired. If I acted the way I felt, then I doubt my friends would have really hung out with me. So the pretending wasn't all bad. The pretending made me less lonely. But in another was, it made me more lonely because I felt like a fraud. I've always felt like a fake human being.
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Dreams don't come from nowhere.
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There I was. Sitting in my car. In the rain. Talking to Alejandra. And it felt more like home than the place where I slept.
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Sometimes, all you have to do is tell people the truth. They won't believe you. After that, they'll leave you alone.
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I wanted to tell her that I thought she had a beautiful heart.
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I thought of what my mom had said. "You talk like a man." It was easier to talk like a man than to be one.
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I'm trying not to be ashamed...
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A heart so pure it was nothing but storm.
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Her eyes were as sad as they were fierce.
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I ask her if she loves me and I always feel bad when I ask her that because it makes me sound so desperate. I ask and ask and ask.