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What is the real question is not whether to be, but how to be?

Gayle Forman

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Gayle Forman
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 5
Writer
LA
California
Question
Whether
Real

More quotes by Gayle Forman

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One day she told me that they'd decided that my gender was divvied into two neat piles-Men and Guys. Basically, all the saints of the world: Men. The jerks, the players, the wet T-shirt contest aficionados? They were Guys.
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And something tells me if it matters, maybe it shouldn't be easy.
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Someone wake me when it's over When the evening silence softens golden Just lay me on bed of dover Oh, I need help with this burden Hush
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Sometimes the wind blows you places you weren't expecting: sometimes it blows you away from those places, too.
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Willem, I suspect deep down you know exactly why you're here, exactly what you want, but you're unwilling to the wanting, let alone the having. Because both of those propositions are terrifying.
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I think everything is happening all the time, but if you don't put yourself in the path of it, you miss it. When you travel, you put yourself out there. It's not always great. Sometimes it's terrible. But other times ... [...] It's not so bad.
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Why get stained when getting dirty is so much more fun
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And that's when I understand that I have been stained. Whether I'm still in love with him, whether he was ever in love with me, and no matter who he's in love with now, Willem changed my life. He showed me how to get lost, and then I showed myself how to get found.
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But I also know that sometimes Adam needs to do things the dramatic way. He is fond of the Grand Gesture
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But I'd do it again. I know that now. I'd make that promise a thousand times over and lose her a thousand times over to have heard her play last night or to see her in the morning sunlight. Or even without that. Just to know that she's somewhere out there. Alive.
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Leaving people to jumped conclusions is sometimes simpler than explaining a complicated truth
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Sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love.
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There were signs. Probably more of them than I ever caught, even after the fact. But I missed them all. Maybe because I wasn’t looking for them. I was too busy checking over my shoulder at the fire I’d just come through to pay much attention to the thousand-foot cliff looming in front of me.
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It's nice, this. The canal. He looks at me. You. I'll bet you say that to all the canals.
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It's just accidental, just temporary. Until the next accident sends me somewhere new. That's how life works.
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She left for Juilliard the day after Labor Day. I drove her to the airport. She kissed me good-bye. She told me that she loved me more than life itself. Then she stepped through security. She never came back.
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But then Mason touches my neck, to the spot on it where the cut from that night has since healed, and I pull away. He was right, after all it didn't leave a scar, though part of me wishes it had. At least I'd have some evidence, some justification of this permanence. Stains are even worse when you're the only one who can see them.
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We can change in one day. We can fall in love in one day. Anything can happen in one day.
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I am adrenaline slammed into inertia: a fast car stuck in traffic.
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I'm not choosing, but I'm running out of fight.
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