Quote

There’s a reason I hate jigsaw puzzles. I don’t have the patience to find all the border pieces, especially when they’re all the same shade of gray.

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
Find
Shade
Gray
Borders
Patience
Especially
Pieces
Jigsaw
Hate
Puzzles
Reason
Border

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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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My heart shifted a little in my chest it seemed to swell and beat against my bones until I couldn't hear.
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After people have gone, you forget their faults, and you recall the ideal more than the person.
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Love can make us do dreadful things.
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This is not a love story. It is my life, and as such, there is love, loss, war, death, and sacrifice. It's about things that needed to be done and choices made. I regret nothing.
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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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Each time Stalker called you 'dove', I wanted to hit him. Because you're not a little gray bird... you're all the light in the world.
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But I miss the woman I was, even as I learn to accept the new creature I’ve become.
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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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A divided heart offers a strange sensation.
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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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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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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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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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I'll always want him. Until every sun goes dark in every sky, until I am nothing more than long-forgotten cosmic dust, I will want him. And even then I suspect my particles will long for his.
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Men always want to be remembered whereas women realize that requires being dead.
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While sight may deceive you, touch rarely does.
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I know just how he feels that it’s come to this. Sometimes, love isn’t enough, even when it’s all you have.
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Once exposed, a secret loses all its power.
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