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.
If you spent your life concentrating on what everyone else thought of you, would you forget who you really were? What if the face you showed the world turned out to be a mask... with nothing beneath it?
When you love someone more than he loves you, you'll do anything to switch the scales. You dress the way you think he'd like you to dress. You pick up his favorite figures of expression. You tell yourself that if you re-create yourself in his image, then he'll crave you in the same way you crave him.
It doesn't take a whole long life to realize that what we deserve to have, we rarely get.
My mother used to tell me that when push comes to shove, you always know who to turn to. That being a family isn't a social construct but an instinct.
When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth.
Just because you keep something a secret doesn't mean it never happened, no matter how much you want that to be true.
Is Fate getting what you deserve, or deserving what you get?
I ...understand how a parent might hit a child- it's because you can look into their eyes and see a reflection of yourself that you wish you hadn't.
I believed the reason there was a God was to prevent such atrocities from happening to the same person twice. But nothing prepared me for this: I have done what I've sworn I could never do; I have become my own nightmare... I have lost control.
He smiles at me, and I am suddenly seventeen again - the year I realize that love doesn't follow the rules, the year I understood that nothing is worth having so much as something unattainable
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.
They don't like the thought of someone else making demands on the person whom they see as belonging entirely to them.
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?
"Everyone still deserves to have their say."
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