Sister,” she said, “you need to work on your banter.
Anxiety is what kept us alive, back in the day. It helps us know when things are wrong, when situations are dangerous or people mean us harm. It’s just sometimes it gets ahead of itself, right?” Nina nodded. “I know.
Libraries were her favorite places, and when she traveled, she would start out at the local library, thus immediately identifying herself as a total nerd.
Book nerds are daredevils, as you know.
Body language told you so much; text on its own was subject to misinterpretation in every way possible.
That’s one positive thing about texting; you can pause and consider your options, whereas in face-to-face conversation, a silence of three minutes would be weird.
Maybe there is no real thing for anyone. Maybe all of us change depending on where we are and who we’re with.” “And that’s why you like to be alone.” Eliza looked at her and smiled. “How do you mean?” “Because you prefer who you are when you’re alone.” Nina shrugged. “It takes a lot of energy to be with other people. It’s easier to be myself when there’s no one else there.
Gaiman once memorably said, “Books were safer than other people, anyway.
She sometimes made lists of things she’d already done solely so she could cross them off, which she couldn’t help feeling was pretty pathetic but strangely satisfying.
It didn’t matter what hit the fan; as long as there were unread books in the world, she would be fine. Being surrounded by books was the closest she’d ever gotten to feeling like the member of a gang. The books had her back, and the nonfiction, at least, was ready to fight if necessary.
You had to STAY married in the brief pauses between BEING married and those pauses so often had to be rescheduled.
I don’t think she let herself go, Charlie. I think she just lets herself be.
Life tends toward chaos, sadly. I thought I had my life all planned out nicely, and then... everything changed completely. It’s all very well to have a plan – its a good idea – but you have to be able to walk away from it if you need to.
Sometimes I worry that I’m self-obsessed, and then I worry that I’m thinking about myself too much.
It didn’t matter what they weren’t; it only mattered who they were.
Since when had my little kid turned into the Spanish Inquisition? Nobody expects that.
As her good friend Leah once said, she wasn’t mean; she was painfully accurate.
Mind you, these were professional children, the offspring of creative people and deep thinkers, who’d marveled over them as babies, encouraged them to express themselves as toddlers, and wished they’d been more consistent and mean to them now that they were old enough to sass back.
I’m lonely,” the young character Ulysses said, “and I don’t know what I’m lonely for.
You grew up in a family, you left that family and then, life permitting, you built your own family using much of the same material.