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It wasn't my first kiss, maybe it wasn't my best kiss, but it was pretty fine, and the fact that he had asked will forever make that kiss stand out in my mind, touch my heart, make me remember a kiss so tender it made me cry.

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
First
Pretty
Kiss
Heart
Maybe
Kissing
Forever
Cry
Made
Fact
Touch
Mind
Facts
Asked
Make
Remember
Fine
Best
Wasn
Firsts
Stand
Tender

More quotes by Ellen Hopkins

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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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Do you ever dangle your toes over the precipice, dare the cliff to crumble, defy the frozen deity to suffer the sun, thaw feather and bone, take wing to fly you home?
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Is it wrong to leave relative security in favor of unknown risk at the side of someone you love?
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The problem with falling in love is falling back out of it again, usually because you've fallen in love with a lie. That happens as often as not.
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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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Something stirred beneath my skin, some being inside I'd only suspected existed, demon or angel, I couldn't say.
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The problem with being grounded is it gives you a whole lot of unavoidable time to think. NOt even pulling weeds can take away your ability to plot all the varied and wonderful things you might do to get even, or at least to make up, just get a smidgen for time lost to TV and yard work and house cleaning.
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Every high has an equal, measurable low.
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Alone, there is only the person inside. I've grown to like her better than the stuck-up husk of me. Alone, there is no perfect daughter, no gifted high school junior, no Kristina Georgia Snow. There is only Bree. (Ellen Hopkins)
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I don't love him, & he definitely doesn't love me. Still, he semi-fills a gaping black hole inside me. That place wants love, maybe even needs love, but love is something Im pretty sure doesn't exist.
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Happiness is a bull's-eye, awaiting arrows of pain.
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You gotta be crazy to open your windows, invite the demons in.
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Yesterday influences today, thus creates tomorrow.
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God wasn't love, couldn't be love. Because for me, love was a corpse.
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Fake Is that what you are if you choose to improve the basic not perfect you?
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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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Everyone's afraid of everybody else...maybe because we're all afraid of ourselves.
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I know he wants to get serious. He's definitely not a player, not a poser, not a loser, not a user.
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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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I want to open myself, let him inside. But how do I give what has already been taken?
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