Quote

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.

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Soul
Poetry
Heart
Please
Fiction
Head
Pleases
Beauty
Nonfiction
Eye
Speaks
Pain
Ears
Speak
Essence

More quotes by Ellen Hopkins

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Fake Is that what you are if you choose to improve the basic not perfect you?
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Was the fun in the fall?
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There will never be color blindness in a culture of fear.
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You'll only find happy endings in books. Some books.
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I am different. And I don't understand exactly how. And I don't understand just why.
Ellen Hopkins
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Afraid to Die Loveless Because I think if you die without knowing love in this life, that's how you'll spend eternity. Alone. Frozen.
Ellen Hopkins
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Maybe Life is random. No fate. No God. Just Time.
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How can I explain purposely setting foot on a path so blatantly treacherous? Was the fun in the fall?
Ellen Hopkins
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God i've missed you. I can't wait to give you your present. He kisses me hotter this time, and beneath me, through his denim and mine. I can feel the promise of his Christmas gift soon to come.
Ellen Hopkins
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I want to know what it means to be in love. But in my dictionary 'in love' is indefinable.
Ellen Hopkins
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Certain of misfire, my heart threatens to stop.
Ellen Hopkins
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Puzzle pieces don't always connect do they?
Ellen Hopkins
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THE BAD THING ABOUT FEAR Is it requires a reaction. Some hide. Some cry. But, like a dog condemned to a walled yard with no hope of escape or affection, some learn to bite.
Ellen Hopkins
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But, though I was very much in lust with him, I knew from the start we were nothing like forever. Maybe because forever is such a scary place.
Ellen Hopkins
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When the door to love opens, The window to control closes.
Ellen Hopkins
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When all else fails, dream bigger.
Ellen Hopkins
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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)
Ellen Hopkins
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The wind kicks in stronger, branches clatter. Or maybe skeletons. Bones of abandonment. Ghosts that will never be.
Ellen Hopkins
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I tattered their wings and tore off their legs, joint by joint, watched them crawl in circles, like little lost infants, untill they decide to die.
Ellen Hopkins
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Cleansed, chlorinated to the point of chemical peel, sore muscles relieved, I felt almost human again. Tiptoe to my room, up a darkened hall, past closed doors, I wondered if I'd ever feel completely human again.
Ellen Hopkins