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Time is fluid, so the moments where everything feels perfect pass in a wink, and those where you're on your knees in despair drag on like the death of a thousand cuts.

Ann Aguirre

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Ann Aguirre
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: August 27
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
the United States of America
Ellen Connor
Ava Gray
Moments
Drag
Everything
Knees
Feels
Pass
Time
Despair
Like
Cutting
Thousand
Wink
Perfect
Fluid
Death
Cuts

More quotes by Ann Aguirre

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His face held a certain impassivity you see it in all waiters and valets. They might want to jam a knife through your left eye socket, but you'd never know it from their expression. Working retail, I've acquired a similar look myself.
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For I need this scar over my heart to remind me. Crazy as it sounds, if I can bear the wound on my body, it lessens what I must carry on my soul. How he knew that about me, I cannot fathom.
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A divided heart offers a strange sensation.
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Show, not tell, right? Action, not words. You don’t want to hear how sorry I am or how things will be different this time. You want to see it with your own eyes. And until I can show you that, you won’t tell me what I want to hear.
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Are you afraid of falling, baby? No, I’m afraid of landing. [He’s laughing, and I’m smiling.] Stupid idiot smile, don’t you know what comes next?
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Survival feels like cowardice.
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For peace to take hold, one person must first stop fighting.
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My heart raced. He needs you, I thought. Don't let him down. I couldn't remember ever being so happy... or so scared.
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He was the heat of a fire and the sweetness of the moon I'd only just met.
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If I ever win you, he said, anger bright in his pale eyes, it will be because you want me more. Not because he's gone. I'm nobody's second best.
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Each love is unique. Special. Giving to one never takes away from another.
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Sometimes you find your heroes in the unlikeliest places.
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Love can make us do dreadful things.
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I think my head's a minefield strewn with triggers, and maybe if I survive each explosion, what emerges from the wreckage will be me, really, truly me.
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Like most, I was a mix of good and bad, anger and protectiveness, kindness and pride. But right now, I had only strangled fear and the promise of revenge.
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He's earned a lifetime of peace and happiness, but some people never get what they deserve. That's why there are saints in gutters and sadists in palaces.
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I admired Stalkers style. He was incredibly fast using two small blades strapped to the backs of his hands. Slash slash slash. Fighting him you wouldn’t die of one great wound but instead bleed out slowly surprised to find yourself weak and dying after a thousand cuts.
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I imagine the ones we’ve lost as ghosts who prowl about the edges of the light, waiting for us to join them. Sometimes that’s terrifying, and sometimes it’s reassuring, a promise of homecoming.
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I’m sick of asking questions everyone else already knows the answers to.
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I'm Sirantha Jax, and I have had enough.
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