Benjamin Alire Saenz Quotes
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And understood that rage could be quiet. Could be soft. Rage didn’t have to be a killer.
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She had all this love in her eyes, and I swear I could drown in that love.
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My mom, she sometimes resided in the space between irony and sincerity.
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I'm trying not to be ashamed...
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The heart can get really cold if all you've known is winter.
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But why? Why don’t I want to fight when fight is all I’ve ever known and loved? I’ve fought for every inch of joy I’ve ever known.
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Summer had come and gone. Summer had come and gone. And the world was ending.
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I wanted to tell him that all the awful things that happened in the old world were dead. And the new world, the world we lived in now, the world we were creating, that world would be better. But I didn’t say it, because I wasn’t sure it was true.
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I live in an ecotone. Employment must coexist with goofing off. Responsibility must coexist with irresponsibility.
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There was so little difference between a fist that was trying to hold everything in and the fist that was ready to release all its frustration and rage.
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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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And he wished her anger would come back because she was strong when she was angry.
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He was on fire, she could almost touch the rage. He could scare people. He could make anyone afraid, if he wanted to.
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Sometimes you put things off. And you get addicted to putting things off.
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Maybe the problem between me and my father was that we were both the same.
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He thought that everyone should listen to her voice, because there was so much sadness and happiness in it, all at the same time. And he knew she could make the world be quiet, and he thought that maybe the world needed to be quiet. That was the problem with the world—it never stayed quiet long enough to listen.
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. . . Alive is a place. Alive is the new word for home.
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Sometimes, you do things and you do them not because you're thinking but because you're feeling. Because you're feeling too much. And you can't always control the things you do when you're feeling too much. Maybe the difference between being a boy and being a man is that boys couldn't control the awful things they sometimes felt. And men could.
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Maybe it had to be that way. Maybe she’d had to fight for everything, so the fight in her was permanent—like a scar or an immutable tattoo.
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I know you sometimes think that people are like books. But our lives don’t have neat logical plots, and we don’t always say beautiful, intelligent things like the characters in a novel. That’s not the way life is.
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People were wired to hell. He wanted to growl like a rabid mastiff when he heard someone say, "The body is a machine." What asshole thought of that? Screwed up and angry and wanting love, fucking desperate to get it and not knowing how to get it, and willing to do anything just to get a taste of it. Or worse, striking out because you couldn't get it-all that love you wanted. The body was not a machine. Machines and computers, he could deal with. There was always a solution for the problem. What was the solution for him?
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And like everybody else in the known universe, she didn’t always let herself in on the truth.
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Maybe this will be the summer when there is nothing but laughter. Maybe this will be the summer.
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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?