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Happiness is a bull's-eye, awaiting arrows of pain.

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Happiness
Eye
Pain
Awaiting
Bull
Bulls
Arrows

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When the door to love opens, The window to control closes.
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When i'm with you my blood flows smoothly through
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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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Life is full of choices. We don't always make good ones. It seems to Kristina you gotta be crazy to open your windows, invite the demons in. Bree throws rocks at the feeble glass, laughs
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I never went to Albuquerque expecting to find love. I thought it had found me there, followed me home. I never came home expecting to lose love in the space of one brief telephone call. Is it always so short-lived?
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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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Have to Find ...life ...is ...a— ...gamble ...after ...all.
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Don't make me laugh, I'd much rather cry.
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You can turn your back but you can never really walk away.
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Anger is easier than forgiveness.
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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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Nonfiction speaks to the head. Fiction speaks to the heart. Poetry speaks to the soul. It's the essence of beauty. The essence of pain. It pleases the eye and the ear.
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You can have your pick of pretty women. Why me? You're like the ocean, Pattyn. Pretty enough on the surface, but dive down into your depths, you'll find beauty most people never see. Lucky me. I fell in, headfirst.
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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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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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Don't Stop ...down, ...Down there ...down where ...monsters, ...Run!
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Grown up? Me? I suppose I have. Killing things, and almost killing myself, must have changed me some, after all.
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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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Religion is for followers... Followers and puppets.
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Think long and hard before offering your heart to someone who can only accept it part-time
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