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I’m as forgiving as the wall you hit at two hundred kilometers an hour.

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
Hour
Hundred
Wall
Hours
Two
Kilometers
Forgiving

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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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Possessiveness isn’t love. I’m not even sure it qualifies as an emotion.
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Every army has a beginning, no matter how humble.
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A good huntress respected her partners instincts, even if he was socially ignorant.
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He has to take me as I am, broken bits and all.
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I’d never known it was possible to love as he did— with complete devotion yet devoid of promises.
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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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His reply offers infinite solace in a single word. Always.
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With my partner beside me, I fear nothing, not even death.
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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 want to drag you off and hide you away,” he whispered. “Why?” “I always knew you were beautiful, but now everyone else will too. I won’t be able to keep other boys away from you, and it’ll make me crazy.
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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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Did he die well? No, I thought. Nobody did. They just died.
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It’s what you do that counts, not what you consider doing.
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You could miss someone, but it did no good to fixate on loss. I wished I had the ready words of a Breeder or the ability to comfort with a soft touch. I didn't. Instead I had daggers and determination. That would have to do.
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I think people can be trusted to know what makes them unhappy. Maybe we don't always know what we want exactly, but we can usually say what we don't with a fair amount of specificity.
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People grew lazy. They knew too many blessings, and so lost the ability to appreciate what they had
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You don’t need to be afraid of falling // when there’s someone around to catch you.
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Sometimes I miss the old me.
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But it was like a dance across a field strewn with razors, and I bled with every step I took.
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