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Red and raw like my heart, pried from your's, the two beating, no longer together, but a thousand miles between them when only yesterday they thumped in unison.

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Like
Red
Miles
Yesterday
Thousand
Longer
Two
Pried
Together
Unison
Heart
Beating

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There will never be color blindness in a culture of fear.
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Maybe Life is random. No fate. No God. Just Time.
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Religion is for followers... Followers and puppets.
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Words have power. The power to soothe. The power to skewer someone through the heart. The power to render someone speechless.
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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.
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Funny thing about the monster. The worse he treats you, the more you love him.
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Every high has an equal, measurable low.
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It's just so hard to feel good, you know?
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I'd like to cry now. Don't know how.
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Our meeting, touching, accidentally connecting immediately, interwoven hand-in-hand, heart-to-heart.
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Whatever has happened in someone's past, the future is theirs to shape. The first step is to find a way out.
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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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The first time I kissed you. One kiss, and I was totally hooked. Addicted to you. I could never love anyone the way I love you. I'd follow you across the universe.
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Don't Stop ...down, ...Down there ...down where ...monsters, ...Run!
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As the old saying goes, sometimes loving someone means letting them go.
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I was about six years old, still Daddy's little girl, even though Daddy couldn't care less about me. How could I expect any man every would?
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Would I drown saving him?
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I am different. And I don't understand exactly how. And I don't understand just why.
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Everyone's afraid of everybody else...maybe because we're all afraid of ourselves.
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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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