Most people, it seems like they’ve only got one part of the equation down. Caring for themselves, or caring for someone else. And I’v learned how important it is to have both.
I felt a constant, low-flying desperation, the kind you feel when you are trying, trying, trying to get something you will never, ever get.
This was what happened after you’d been together with someone a long time. You loved that it was old and worn and comfy, but sometimes it was old and worn and comfy.
It’s hard to see clearly when your eyes are squinched tight out of fear.
When you raise an animal, you live it like your own child.
This is what happens when nice people are pushed too far. We give too many chances, and so when we’ve finally had enough, we are well and truly done. When a nice person shuts a door on you, it’s shut for good.
All of my books come from something that I happen to be working out at a given point in my life. Its kind of self-therapy.
I was a book lover from the beginning. I loved, love, words and images and ideas, the ways a book can make you feel things deeply or help you understand something you never even knew there were words for.
Ive never met a popcorn ball I didnt like.
I became a writer because I love books, and I believe in their power.
I kept trying to talk myself out of my second thoughts when they were trying to help me. My advice? When it comes to relationships, second thoughts should be promoted.
Then again, what are liars if not great magicians?
Hope could be the most powerful thing or the most useless.
Stereotypes are fast and easy, but they are lies, and the truth takes its time.
I could forget that part, but it had to have been true.
A relationship could be a place to hide too.
Sometimes I’ve even wished there was a human pause button, where you could choose some point in your life where you could stay always.
Truth was funny, because it was an insistent thing, maybe as powerful and insistent as some force of nature, the push of water or wind. You could keep it out only so long, but it had its own will and its own needs, and maybe you could keep it at bay with lies, but not for long, not for always.
Most of our parents wanted the best for us, I knew, but we also wanted the best for them.
Maybe we all just want to feel special, even for a little while, to be fooled for a bit into feeling something besides the truth of our own ordinariness.