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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
Couldn
Wasn
Love
Corpse
Corpses

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A best friend is your voice when you can't find it.
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He has built a pedestal for her so tall that she is afraid to be lifted atop it, because to fall would mean certain death. But oh, she would rise far, far beyond fear and be held by arms so strong, and love so pure, that falling would not be an option.
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I wanted to meet the monster. Why go down if you can go up?
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It's just so hard to feel good, you know? I do know. And more than that, it's just so incredibly hard to feel. (54)
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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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I feel like a goddess, jailed in her Olympus. Little wonder how the gods toyed with humans. Toyed with women, to watch them squirm, pollinate the seeds of despair toyed with men, to satiate their Seven Deadly Sins.
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Always before, I just said no, left it solidly there. I waver now. I want to share everything with him. Want to know what he knows, feel what he feels, share the same space he's in.
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One foot in front of the other, counting tiles on the floor so I don't have to focus the blur of painted smiles, fake faces.
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When you've only got one little shimmer of sunshine, you capture it best you can.
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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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You can turn your back but you can never really walk away.
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he sucked the nectar from her heart like a famished butterfly.
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Memory is a tenuous thing, like a rainbow's end or a camera with a failing lens.
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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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How could I share the way my heart was breaking when my confessor didn’t believe
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I love you so much when i see you i get butterflies
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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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Would I drown saving him?
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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
Ellen Hopkins
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empty and closed, hovering in some frozen netherworld neither sun nor rain could thaw.
Ellen Hopkins