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God wasn't love, couldn't be love. Because for me, love was a corpse.

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Wasn
Love
Corpse
Corpses
Couldn

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Real love shouldn't be disposable.
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Forever has no meaning when you're living in the moment. I wasn't ready for that moment to end.
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That's what I'll be. A silhouette, rarely seen, and yet believed in. Kaeleigh wants to believe in me. I am her twin, forever alive inside her. And when she needs me, I am always here.
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When you've only got one little shimmer of sunshine, you capture it best you can.
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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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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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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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i expected demands. he gifted me with tenderness. i expected ego. he let me experiment. i expected disrespect. he called me beautiful. i expected him to expect perfection. he taught me all i needed to know.
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When You Weren't Looking ...why. ...Can't you ...care ...more ...about ...me.
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I nod, because I do understand. I'm just not sure how to go about divorcing myself from the evil I've already accepted.
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Certain of misfire, my heart threatens to stop.
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Can a dream be wrong? Aren't dreams God's way of telling you things?
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When the door to love opens, The window to control closes.
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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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Every high has an equal, measurable low.
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Detailed descriptions, abstract ambitions, relevant observations, your's and mine.
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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 were a summer gift, one I'll always treasure. You were a dream I never wanted to wake up from. You opened my eyes to things I'll never really see. You're the best thing that will ever happen to me.
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Sad, that lives can be shattered, into so many pieces that they can never be put back together, the the relentless force of love. Irreparable.
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Anger requires energy, something I don't dare waste on what cannot be altered.
Ellen Hopkins