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I was crying a little for the boy I had wanted him to be and the boy he hadn’t turned out to be.
Gabrielle Zevin
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Gabrielle Zevin
Age: 46
Born: 1977
Born: October 24
Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
New York City
New York
Cry
Turned
Boys
Littles
Wanted
Little
Crying
Hadn
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You forget all of it anyway. . . You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. . . You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They’re the last to go. And then once you’ve forgotten enough, you love someone else.
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People, you'll find, aren't usually all good or bad. Sometimes they're just a little bit good and a whole lot bad. And sometimes they're mostly good with a dash of bad. And most of us, well, we fall in the middle somewhere.
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Betty inhales sharply, 'It's just I thought I had lost you forever.' Oh, Betty, don't you know there's no such thing as forever?
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Someday, you do not know when, you will be driving down the road and someday, you do not now when, you will make a wrong tun. At the end of the road, when you're least expecting it, he (or indeed she) will be there.
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My heart was a little bit broken, but I still had to go to school. I buttoned my dress shirt over it and my winter coat, too. I hoped it didn't show too much.
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It was such a sweet, sad song with such sweet, sad lyrics. Old-fashioned a little, but also timeless.
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There's a strange sort of quiet when you're dying. It's as if you're in a glass room, and the walls keep getting thicker and thicker.
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It is a lie that people who love each other must know everything about each other. Love must occasionally allow for a gap.
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Someday, we’ll run into each other again, I know it. Maybe I’ll be older and smarter and just plain better. If that happens, that’s when I’ll deserve you. But now, at this moment, you can’t hook your boat to mine, because I’m liable to sink us both.
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Win walked over to me. He held out his palm. In the middle of it was a single black sequin from the dress Scarlet had lent me. You lost this, he said. I giggled, slightly embarrassed to be leaving bits of myself behind. I'm shedding.
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I don't believe in writer's block.
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He kissed me, though not in a sexy way. Gentle. Tender.
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Well, for one, you have to remember not to scream. Once you have their attention, whispering is much more effective. Screaming ghosts scare people, you know
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Life used to move much more quickly when I was a girl. We needed to abbreviate just to keep up.
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