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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.

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
Think
Explosion
Thinking
Triggers
Explosions
Survive
Minefield
Truly
Minefields
Head
Strewn
Maybe
Wreckage
Really
Emerges

More quotes by Ann Aguirre

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I have had passionate kisses and fierce ones, kisses so sweet they tasted like pure honey and kisses that cut like knives, but until this moment, I’ve never had one that said both hello and good-bye.
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I don’t like anyone knowing anything about me that I didn’t choose to tell them.
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Right now, I wish I’d stayed because I want you at my side. That sounds pretty selfish, but I don’t mean it that way. You just never needed me that way I said it to you once as I was leaving—that you love me, but you don’t need me. You don’t lean. But I admire that about you, and I could use some of your strength right now.
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He went in, lean and deadly, and ended the creature with a lightning-fast spike of his blade. It shrieked, likely altering the rest. The death call carried like a mournful song.
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With my partner beside me, I fear nothing, not even death.
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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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We stand a professional distance apart, as if I can’t feel his pain screaming in my head. Mine amplifies his they share a joint sound—that of glass breaking—until they swell to a crescendo that deafens.
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We're broken in complementary ways, thus rendering our damage comprehensible to each other.
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They say funerals are not for the dead but for the living. Those rites are what permit you to move on, so if you don't deal with the remains, you can never deal with the memories. That might be true we may have walked in their dust down on Venice Minor, but it's not the same as a proper good-bye.
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I shake my head, but I can’t change this. I can only bear the scars, as I have always done, as I ever do.
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A good huntress respected her partners instincts, even if he was socially ignorant.
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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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I’d never known it was possible to love as he did— with complete devotion yet devoid of promises.
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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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Men can be very stupid. We cease to value what we have until it's gone, and only then do we realize the gold we glimpsed in distant hills pales as dross compared to treasure we had in hand.
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Because it takes more courage to heal the world's hurts than to inflict them.
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I’m sick of asking questions everyone else already knows the answers to.
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I wanted proof, not promises.
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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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