Infatuation's just another word for not seeing clearly. When you start to love a person- that's when they become real
I don't know what he means by that, but I nod and smile at him. You'd be surprised at how far that response can get you in a conversation where you are completely confused.
I wonder if other mothers feel a tug at their insides, watching their children grow up into the people they themselves wanted so badly to be.
If she spoke, she would tell him the truth: she was not okay at all, but horribly empty, now that she knew what it was like to be filled.
On the other hand, I think cats have Asperger's. Like me, they're very smart. And like me, sometimes they simply need to be left alone.
Suddenly this is all too hard. I am tired of putting up walls. I want someone with the strength - and the honesty - to break them down.
There are just as many stories to be told in the dark spots s there are in the bright ones.
Doctors put a wall up between themselves and their patients; nurses broke it down.
A lie, as you probably know, has a taste all its own. Blocky and bitter and never quite right, like when you pop a piece of fancy chocolate into your mouth expecting toffee filling and you get lemon zest instead.
No, honestly, my mouth shouldn't be able to function unless my brain's engaged.
Hope and reality lie in inverse proportions.
Grief is a curious thing, when it happens unexpectedly. It is a Band-Aid being ripped away, taking the top layer off a family. And the underbelly of a household is never pretty, ours no exception. There were times I stayed in my room for days on end with headphones on, if only so that I would not have to listen to my mother cry. There were the weeks that my father worked round-the-clock shifts, so that he wouldn't have to come home to a house that felt too big for us.
An apology with a defense built in isn't much of an apology
The weapons an author has at her disposal are flawed. There are words that feel shapeless and overused. Love, for example. I could write the word love a thousand times and it would mean a thousand different things to different readers.
That's why we read fiction, isn't it? To remind us that whatever we suffer, we're not the only ones?
Reason number 106 why dogs are smarter than humans: once you leave the litter, you server contact with your mothers.
Remember when you were a little kid and you'd fall asleep in the car? And someone would carry you out and put you into bed, so that when you woke up in the morning, you knew automatically you were home again? That's what I think it's like to die.
You make yourself strong because it's expected of you. You become confident because someone beside you is unsure. You turn into the person others need you to be.
How far can a person go... and still live with himself.
I don't know whether you can look at your past and find, woven like the hidden symbols on a treasure map, the path that will point to your final destination.
I believe that you can fall in love many times with many different people. However, I don't think that you can fall in love the same way twice. One type of relationship may be steady. Another may be fire and brimstone. Who is to say if one of these is better that the other? The deciding factor is how it all fits together. Your love, I mean, and your life.
When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves: one for your enemy, and one for yourself.
But will you miss me? More importantly - will I miss you? Does either one of us really want to hear the answer to that question?
There are some things, I think, you're btter off not remembering.
As anyone who's ever contracted it knows, lies are an infectious disease. They slip under the almond slivers of your fingernails and into your bloodstream.
"Everyone still deserves to have their say."
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