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Grown up? Me? I suppose I have. Killing things, and almost killing myself, must have changed me some, after all.
Ellen Hopkins
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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Almost
Must
Things
Grown
Suppose
Killing
Changed
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When i'm with you my blood flows smoothly through
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I write books for young adults because I truly connect with them on some very deep level. They are our hope, our future, and inspiring them to be the best they can be is very important to me.
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The problem with resolutions is they're only as solid as the person making them.
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Death Is only the easy way out if you are the one who dies.
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Real love shouldn't be disposable.
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When all else fails, dream bigger.
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Some secrets can't be kept too long. No matter how hard you try to hide them, sooner or later they scurry out from your cupboards, cockroaches on the run.
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As the old saying goes, sometimes loving someone means letting them go.
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Just keep on shining that light. The rest will take care of itself.
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When you've only got one little shimmer of sunshine, you capture it best you can.
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Funny how when your life is mostly bullshit, you turn off feeling. Sometimes it's hard to turn it back on again.
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Love is Chocolate The unprocessed kind. Dark. Bitter. But always with the promise of sweet perfection. All it takes is sugar- that certain someone's kiss, flavored with possibility. If Dani has taught me anything, it's that life is brimming with possibilities. Every single day brings choices.
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Can a dream be wrong? Aren't dreams God's way of telling you things?
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But hey, I'm not exactly sold on the idea that love is, in fact, real. Will it find me one day, overtake me, infiltrate my life like sunlight snakes through the cold of morning? Can love thaw me? will it ever?
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Hot flush, raging bluch. Ice flash, instant crash.
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Would I drown saving him?
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The wind kicks in stronger, branches clatter. Or maybe skeletons. Bones of abandonment. Ghosts that will never be.
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Every high has an equal, measurable low.
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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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you fly until you crash two days two nights no sleep, no food, come down off the monster YOU CRASH REAL HARD
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