Quote

Her silence was worth more to her than a thousand words.In that silence,she had peace and clarity.Except during the night,when her own jumbled thoughts would keep her awake.

Cecelia Ahern

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Cecelia Ahern
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: September 30
Novelist
Screenwriter
Television Producer
Writer
Dublin city
Night
Except
Would
Thoughts
Worth
Thousand
Silence
Peace
Jumbled
Words
Clarity
Keep
Awake

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I always pushed myself. Whenever I felt I needed to stop, I made myself run faster.
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But where pain was, healing could come where loneliness was, new relationships could be formed where rejection was, new love could be found. It was a moment. And moments changed. She would have to live through the moment to get to the next.
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...God leads you to it and takes you through it.
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Nobody's life is filled with perfect little moments. And if it were, they wouldn't be perfect little moments. They would just be normal. How would you ever know happiness if you never experience downs?
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There aren’t many sure things in life, but one thing I know for sure is that you have to deal with the consequences of your actions. You have to follow through on some things.
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It's like my garden, love. Everything grows. Including love. And with that growing everyday how can you expect missing her to ever fade away? Everything builds, including our ability to cope with it. That's how we keep going.
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I never grew up thinking the goal in life was to be a millionaire. All the way through college, I had a part-time job. I worked hard to get the things that you need at that age.
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We each have our hiding places and we each put up with the little quirks of the people we love.
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Every single ordinary person has an extraordinary story.
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When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground, it makes a crashing sound. When a window shatters, a table breaks, or a picture fall of the wall, it makes noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, it's completely silent... and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.
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Sometimes there is only one thing left to say, P. S. I Love You.
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To new beginnings. To the pursuit of...somethingness.
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I don't know why, but there's always the part of you, the part that hides in the shadows protecting the self-destruct button, that doesn't ever want to leave the dark behind.
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Yes it's difficult. Yes it's horrible. Yes it's the worst thing that has ever happen in my whole life. But I just can't give up.
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Journalism classes teach us that one must extract oneself from the story in order to report without bias, but often we need to be in the story in order to understand, to connect, to help the audience identify or else it has no heart it could be a robot telling the story, for all anyone cares.
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People tell stories and it's up to those who listen whether to believe or not. Shouldn't the storyteller believe it. The storyteller should tell it.
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Whenever I go to Germany I find that my readers have T-shirts with my book covers printed on them. They come to all the events, they have gifts and they come with their families. They are always very open to sharing their personal stories.
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Their plan had been very simple: to stay together for the rest of their lives.
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This house isn't mine anymore, but the memories are the memories can't be sold. The building that housed my once-upon-a-time dreams stands for someone else now, as it did for the people before us, and I feel happy to let it go. Happy that I can begin again, anew, though bearing the scars of before. They represent wounds that have healed.
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My box bedroom can only fit a bed and a wardrobe but it was my whole world. My only personal space to think and dream, to cry and laugh and wait until I became old enough to do all the things I wasn't allowed to do.
Cecelia Ahern