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Sometimes the past needed to stay buried it was the only way you could move on. And sometimes you had to dig it up, because that too was the only way.

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
Past
Sometimes
Way
Buried
Stay
Move
Needed
Moving

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With a polite smile, I decided she was insane.
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No matter how interminable something feels, there is always, always an ending. Sometimes that's good, and sometimes it's bad sometimes it's a matter of indifference, and sometimes it's heartbreaking, and your life is never the same thereafter.
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If so, I couldn't imagine how the opposite gender managed to get out of bed in the morning. They might be lovely to look at, but clear thinking wasn't their strong point.
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He’s worth fighting for, but I won’t change who I am for any man. No more than he should alter himself to suit me.
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A curve of silver hung amid the brighter specks it looked to me like a curved dagger, pretty but deadly, as if it might slice the sky in two.
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It’s easy to do right when everything goes right. But let everything go wrong, and see how difficult it becomes.
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His reply offers infinite solace in a single word. Always.
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I sighed. 'It's hard. You're the only one who listens to what I have to say.' Longshot dropped a gentle, comforting arm around my shoulders. 'Then speak louder, girl. Don't let them put out your spark.
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His lashes, fluttered like butterfly wings. I could've made you happy, dove. You did, I whispered
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Sometimes broken things heal crooked. The pieces didn’t fit anymore.
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Beautiful. And ugly. The world is always both.
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Nobility and self-sacrifice sound wonderful in theory, but now he’s seen how it feels. A dead hero is still dead at the end of the day, and you’re still alone.
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Most people weren’t aware enough to fear the things that could really hurt them.
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He is not the same person as when we met, but . . . neither am I. Time has refined us, but instead of pushing us apart, we’re closer than ever.
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I’ve lost so many people. Some I left on purpose and never looked back. Some were taken from me, and I never said good-bye.
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Sometimes it felt as if all happiness came at a price. You could never, ever, have perfection. Life gave you beauty so you could bear the pain.
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I’m sick of asking questions everyone else already knows the answers to.
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Yet sometimes being a friend meant letting people do things that hurt, like putting distance between you, just because it made them happy.
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Don’t let them see you weak.
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