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He is nothing to look at, and yet I can’t stop looking at him. There is something beautiful in how his face is made, how all the tiny flaws blend together into something more perfect than perfection could ever be.

Elizabeth Scott

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Elizabeth Scott
Look
Stop
Nothing
Looking
Looks
Face
Made
Faces
Something
Perfect
Blend
Beautiful
Flaws
Together
Tiny
Ever
Perfection

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Look at me. We aren´t them lauren. You´re not your mother or father any more than I´m my mother. You´re you and I´m me and I love you.
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...sometimes, you have to break your own heart.
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I don't eat bread.' Is she pouting? It's hard to tell. She's had a lot of chemicals injected into her face.
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Something in me, in my bruised heart, wakes up, and even though I'm terrified, I don't push the feeling away.
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School is just like having a job. You have to show up, you have to do your work, and you have to be around tons of idiots or mean people. Now that I think about it, it's worse than having a job. At least there you get paid.
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I felt nothing all the time, and it had started to feel normal. It should have scared me, but it didn't.
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I think...I think sometimes that's how it is. Sometimes people have to go before you get stuff. Before you can really get it.
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Hope was supposed to be a good thing, but it was starting to feel like every other four-letter word you're not supposed to say.
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Little Alice, all hollowed out, so easy to smash into a million little pieces.
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It was like we were all so busy trying to be happy or saying we were happy, but underneath there was nothing but bitterness, the kind that could only be bled out in ink, in unspoken word.
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It could be enough, maybe, or at least a start, but the problem is that at night I tumble into dreams that aren't dreams at all. I tumble into memories and wake up aching for a dying world and a quiet, cold life that offered me nothing but sitting in a still room.
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My full name is Lauren Lee Smith. Of all the names I could have been given, that's the one I got. Lauren Lee Smith. It has all the personality of a toaster.
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I’m broken, I have cut myself wide open. I can see my heart and it is not what I believed it was, it is not good and kind and all the things I have always thought I am.
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Kate, don't be like that. You know I only did so well because I yearn-see, SAT word- to follow you to college and steal your heart. Uh-huh. Too bad for you I don't plan on attending clown college. He grinned. Only you would ignore the incredibly sweet thing I just said. Only you would describe one of your asinine comments as incredibly
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Well as much as I'm sure the people next door who are pretending they aren't looking at me would like to hear what I have to say, I'd rather say it to just you.
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I'll always remember taking your hand and telling you that everything would be okay.
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Imagine a guy. He’s a little taller than you, with perfect skin, skin that just screams “touch me!” and dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes and he looks so sweet and he is sweet. And then have him blush a little.
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But I know a lie when I hear one.
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It's bullshit. It's so easy to label people, to look at a list of symptoms and say, This is who you are. This is what you are.
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I didn't feel anything watching him go. I didn't even wish I did.
Elizabeth Scott