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Maybe I was being too picky. Maybe I didn't want to be close to anyone. Maybe I'd just be the type who couldn't feel love all the way or something. I couldn't tell what was wrong, but what was wrong was that it just wasn't right.

Deb Caletti

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Deb Caletti
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: June 16
Novelist
Writer
San Rafael
California
Didn
Couldn
Right
Close
Feel
Type
Feels
Wasn
Something
Maybe
Way
Anyone
Love
Wrong
Tell
Picky

More quotes by Deb Caletti

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So I put up with bad behavior in the name of loving the way I thought you were supposed to love.
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...we are all a volume on the shelf of the... library, a story unto ourselves, never possibly described with one word or even very accurately with thousands.
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Here, kitty, kitty, Chico says. The cover of his cage is still on, making his tiny clown voice slightly muffled. I feel bad for him under there, just waiting to start his evil little day...Freud walks toward Chico in his slinky fashion, sits under his cage and just stares. We have satanic pets...our pets seem to have made a pact with the devil.
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Supposedly there's an actual, researched link between extreme creativity and mental illness, and I believe it because I've seen it with my own eyes.
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Fear was the biggest bullshitter, he’d said. But sometimes, too, fear told the truth.
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We should not give away a moment to anyone who does not deserve it.
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You take care of the people you love, but it’s true, too, that you take care of the things you own.
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I was a book lover from the beginning. I loved, love, words and images and ideas, the ways a book can make you feel things deeply or help you understand something you never even knew there were words for.
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But then there are the van Goghs and Hemingways and Mozarts, those who feel a hunger so deep, so far down, that greatness lies there too, nestled somewhere within it. Those who get their inner voice and direction from the cool mysterious insides of the moon, and not from the earth like the rest of us.
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Summer, after all, is a time when wonderful things can happen to quiet people.
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Blessed books—they’re a place to be alone, and no one else can come in.
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I vow... to not let the back & forth of forgiveness interrupt the steadiness of love.
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It made me wonder how many times we forgive just because we don't want to lose someone, even if they don't deserve our forgiveness.
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There are so many different fifteens. And eighteens. And forty-twos, for that matter. Mature fifteens and young fifteens and wise fifteens and lost fifteens. And angry fifteens.
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You were supposed to have hope, right? You were supposed to respect its power and hold on. And so I did. I held, and held, and let hope fill me. But as the days went on, it seemed I could be holding for a long, long time. Hope could be the most powerful thing or the most useless
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so what brings you to the doctor today? hmm, im afraid i have the chronic desire to save people i know about that. i've got it too. maybe it's catching. not catching enough
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I may be nervous, I say. Okay, I'm really glad you said that, because I just went to the back room to put on more deodorant. Sebastian says.
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To an untrained eye, need and love were as easily mistaken for each other as the real master's painting and a forgery.
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Truth was funny, because it was an insistent thing, maybe as powerful and insistent as some force of nature, the push of water or wind. You could keep it out only so long, but it had its own will and its own needs, and maybe you could keep it at bay with lies, but not for long, not for always.
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She would bring you some great book because she was a book matchmaker, because she loved books the way other girls loved clothes.
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