Quote

I hate this feeling. Like I'm here, but I'm not. Like someone cares. But they don't. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Hate
Anywhere
Snowy
Feelings
Somewhere
Crisp
Else
Cool
Crisps
Someone
Window
Crank
Past
Air
February
Care
Lies
Cares
Like
Feeling
Belong
Lying
Escape

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One kiss, I was totally hooked.
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Many readers share their stories with me and if one speaks to me (or if the same theme keeps coming at me), I will research it and decide if it would make a good book. But, straight down to it, people inspire me.
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Too much to take in, too much to purge. Why must every memory, once sweet, dead end in such ugliness?
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Happiness, you see, its just an illusion of Fate, a heavenly sleight of hand designed to make you believe in fairy tales. But there's no happily ever after. You'll only find happy endings in books. Some books.
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I really have to wonder who or what made Daddy become this way. Babies aren't born cruel or filled with sick desire. Evil is not intrinsic. It's fashioned.
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It's just so hard to feel good, you know?
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I want to open myself, let him inside. But how do I give what has already been taken?
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Authors have to write for their characters, for who they are, that's the strength of books. Don't worry about censors. Just write the story you need to tell and the rewards will come.
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Afraid to Die Loveless Because I think if you die without knowing love in this life, that's how you'll spend eternity. Alone. Frozen.
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Would I drown saving him?
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Certain of misfire, my heart threatens to stop.
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Even without them touching me, I feel dirty about what I do. Alex does even filthier things but says it all washes off with soap. I don’t believe that. I think it all leaves stains. Indelible stains.
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empty and closed, hovering in some frozen netherworld neither sun nor rain could thaw.
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I'll Stay ...leave ...me. ...I'll ...follow ...you.
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She's no longer afraid to die. What she's afraid of is living, accepting the status quo.
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The truth is, I've always been afraid of letting anyone get too close. I built a wall around me, a barricade to hide behind those few times someone wanted entry to my heart.
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Something stirred beneath my skin, some being inside I'd only suspected existed, demon or angel, I couldn't say.
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Communication Was never big in my house. We sat together over dinner, but the only sound you'd hear was crunching and chewing and the little ones asking for more, please. We lived, all boxed up in invisible containers. We hardly knew the people we called sister or father. Jackie and I were the exceptions to that rule.
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You deserve good things, and I want to be one of them.
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Memory is a tenuous thing, like a rainbow's end or a camera with a failing lens.
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