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I never knew I had the power to hurt him, only that he possessed the power to hurt me.

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
Knew
Hurt
Power
Never
Possessed

More quotes by Ann Aguirre

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Dying isn’t like living it requires no effort at all.
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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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Sometimes you find your heroes in the unlikeliest places.
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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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My body was a machine, plain and simple. I worked it to stay strong I fed it to keep it running.
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We’re bound by chains of love, but they don’t weigh us down. Instead, they allow us to be bigger and better than we are.
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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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Sometimes broken things heal crooked. The pieces didn’t fit anymore.
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I found it curious that people kept animals for companionship and not food. When I'd asked Mama Oaks when she planned to cook the fat creature that slept in a basket in the kitchen, her eyes almost popped out of her head. Since then, she'd kept her pet away from me, like she suspected I meant to turn it into stew. Clearly, I had a lot to learn.
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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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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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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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I’m as forgiving as the wall you hit at two hundred kilometers an hour.
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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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He would bear scars because of me, as I carried them for him.
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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 know you have bad news,” I say softly. “I’m ready for it.” But that’s not true. One is never ready. You just lie and say you are and hope you can take the hit on the chin without going down.
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For love to flourish there has to be trust. Promises don’t matter as much as personal choice.
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He'd said the sun could burn me. It certainly looked angry enough, all orange and glowing mad.
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Stalkers lips curled into a sneer. You won't make a move without him, huh? That's embarrassing. No, I said softly. It just hurts because you wish it was you.
Ann Aguirre