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So when he asked about getting high, I didn't think, I agreed. We smoked some good California green. Took three tries to put me in the place he said I should be.

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Trying
Green
Good
Asked
Think
Took
Thinking
High
Smoked
Getting
Agreed
Three
Tries
Didn
Marijuana
Place
California

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But, though I was very much in lust with him, I knew from the start we were nothing like forever. Maybe because forever is such a scary place.
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I don't love him, & he definitely doesn't love me. Still, he semi-fills a gaping black hole inside me. That place wants love, maybe even needs love, but love is something Im pretty sure doesn't exist.
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How could I share the way my heart was breaking when my confessor didn’t believe
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Only by confronting your demons can you ever hope to conquer them.
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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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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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Death Is only the easy way out if you are the one who dies.
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Clear. Cold. Empty. Like how I feel right now. Love is strange. One minute you’re jungle fever. The next you’re Artic winter.
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God wasn't love, couldn't be love. Because for me, love was a corpse.
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Falling in love with someone is the surest highway to hurt that I know. When the door to love opens, the window to control closes.
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Grown up? Me? I suppose I have. Killing things, and almost killing myself, must have changed me some, after all.
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With you, I am Eve. And you are my beautiful Adam. Let's run away, find our garden, live there together, happy. Naked.
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But then, my entire life is bullshit. The best things in it have vanished, ghosts. Ghosts I'll admit I created.
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Was the fun in the fall?
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In control. Out of control. Sometimes they're the same thing. The trick is knowing that, realizing it's okay to feel out of control once in a while, as long as you're sure you can regain the upper hand when you absolutely need to.
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And almost instantly, Daddy made everything seem just fine. Even when it wasn't.
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It is hard to believe that something that seems so permanent was once so different. Change. I guess that really is one thing you can count on.
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Happiness is a bull's-eye, awaiting arrows of pain.
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Is it wrong to leave relative security in favor of unknown risk at the side of someone you love?
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I need to capture my sprite with trembling hands. Except I could crush her. Wonder how many small things of beauty - flowers, seashells, dragonflies - have met such a demise. Wonder how much fragile love has collapsed beneath the weight of confession.
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