I think maybe the most frustrating feeling in the world is to have something to say buy not know how to put it into words. To have lived through something but not be able to get it out of you before it festers.
I bet it gets pretty lonely with only your ego for company.
The thing that scares me is that some part of me understands where they're coming from. They took everything from us, you know? Why shouldn’t we be able to take it back if we have the power to?
If you're going to knock down my suggestion, you'd better have one to replace it.
The Darkest Minds tend to hide behind the most unlikely faces.
Life isn’t fair." I said. "It’s taken me a while to get that. It’s always going to disappoint you in some way or another. You’ll make plans, and it’ll push you in another direction. You will love people, and they’ll be taken away no matter how hard you fight to keep them. You’ll try for something and won’t get it. You don’t have to find meaning in it; you don’t have to try to change things. You just have to accept the things that are out of your hands and try to take care of yourself. That’s your job.
But part of surviving is being able to move on.
But there's a beginning in an end, you know? It's true that you can't reclaim what you had, but you can lock it up behind you. Start fresh.
You get a good review, and it’s like crack. You need another hit. And another. And another. I know authors are like Tinkerbell and generally need applause to survive, but it’s a slippery slope.
Sometimes the darkness lives inside you, and sometimes it wins.
Let's carpe the hell out of this diem.
I think I'm losing it—I don't know what's happening, what happened, but I look at you, I look at you, and I love you so much. Not because of anything you've said, or done, or anything at all. I look at you, and I just love you, and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you.
But inside or out, I was alone, and I was beginning to wonder if I always had been, if I always would be.
And people like you are the reason we have middle fingers.
What I’m trying to get at is, as bad as everything seems, I think, at its heart, life is good. It doesn’t throw anything at us that it knows we can’t handle—and, even if it takes its time, it turns everything right side up again.
They want you to think that darkness or evil is only something that gets inflicted on you by the outside world, but I know better, and I think the freak does, too. Sometimes the darkness lives inside you, and sometimes it wins.
I used to dream about turning back time, about reclaiming the things I'd lost and the person I used to be.
I'm a monster, you know. I'm one of the dangerous ones. No you aren't, he promised. Your one of us.
The darkest minds never fade in the afterlight.
Dreaming led to disappointment, and disappointment to a kind of depressed funk that wasn’t easy to shake. Better to stay in the gray than get eaten by the dark.
You can destroy a factory, and they'll build another. But once you destroy a life, that's it. You never get that person back.
Everyone needs reality to punch them in the face every once in a while. Keeps you on guard.
Because she knows what it's like to live in a world of black, and black, and the tiny bit of white, but when she escaped it, she didn't find the rainbow of colors, the dresses, the singing, the dancing. She only found ugliness.
They were never scared of the kids who might die, or the empty spaces they would leave behind. They were afraid of us-the ones who lived.
We'll just have to try to make better mistakes tomorrow.
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