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Innocence eroded into nightmare. All because of very bad touch. Love, corrupted.

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Touch
Love
Eroded
Corrupted
Nightmare
Innocence

More quotes by Ellen Hopkins

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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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Girls are impossible to satisfy. Not every girl. Not me. I'd be happy if he'd just like me a little.
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As the old saying goes, sometimes loving someone means letting them go.
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Certain of misfire, my heart threatens to stop.
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Anger is easier than forgiveness.
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Once ...Why ...lie? ...when ...truth is ...the easier path
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Only by confronting your demons can you ever hope to conquer them.
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Sometimes the little things in life mean the most.
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I wanted to meet the monster. Why go down if you can go up?
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I'll Stay ...leave ...me. ...I'll ...follow ...you.
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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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Our meeting, touching, accidentally connecting immediately, interwoven hand-in-hand, heart-to-heart.
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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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the not-so-bookish librarian was half angel, half she-devil, so sayeth the rumor mill.
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My happiest memories have no place in the past they are those I have yet to create.
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I know I can't stay here forever
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It's just so hard to feel good, you know?
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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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The problem with resolutions is they're only as solid as the person making them.
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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.
Ellen Hopkins