Benjamin Alire Saenz Quotes
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I wanted to tell her that I thought she had a beautiful heart.
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Who hurt you? When did it happen? How many times? Where? Tell me. Why do you hate yourself? Where do you keep the hurt?
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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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When you do something, you have to know exactly what you're doing.
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I sometimes think that I don't let myself know what I'm really thinking about. That doesn't make much sense but it makes sense to me. I have this idea that the reason we have dreams is that we're thinking about things that we don't know we're thinking about—and those things, well, they sneak out of us in our dreams. Maybe we're like tires with too much air in them. The air has to leak out. That's what dreams are.
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There are more songs living inside her than there are leaves on her tree.
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I realized that Sam wasn’t angry at all. She was hurt. At that moment I heard all the hurt she’d ever held. And it seemed to me that the whole house had quieted down to listen to her pain.
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She looked into my eyes. I wanted to look away. But I didn't. Her eyes were like the night sky in the desert. It felt like there was a whole world living inside her. I didn't know anything about that world.
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I didn't think it was my job to accept what everyone said I was and who I should be.
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Letting someone touch you in the place where it hurts the most, if I could do that, if I could just do that, well, that would mean I was alive.
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You should just sit them down and make them tell you. Make them be adults.
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If you can quit for a day, you can quit for a lifetime.
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It was good to laugh. I wanted to laugh and laugh and laugh until I laughed myself into becoming someone else. The really great thing about laughing was that it made me forget about the strange and awful feeling in my legs. Even if it was only for a minute.
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No one can run from a storm.
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I wondered how that felt, to really like yourself. And I wondered why some people didn't like themselves and others did. Maybe that's just the way it was.
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So if I don’t write as many letters as you do, don’t be upset. I’m not doing it to upset you, okay? This is my problem. I want other people to tell me how they feel. But I’m not so sure I want to return the favor.
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You can't make anyone be an adult. Especially an adult.
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Maybe that wasn't logical, but maybe the thing we call logic is overrated.
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Maybe I’d always had the wrong idea as to who I really was.
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He didn’t know anyone could cry like that. A wind was coming from inside her.
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People have parties because they’re sad. They think a party will make them happy.
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I wondered if happiness would go away when she died.
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She wrapped her hands around my face and looked into my eyes. Her hands were old, but they were the softest, kindest hands that had ever touched me. She didn’t say anything. She just smiled.
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It was as if she was becoming the light.