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He looks at one of the pictures for a long time. Then he looks at me. I'll keep you up here. He taps his temple. Where you can't get lost.

Gayle Forman

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Gayle Forman
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 5
Writer
LA
California
Long
Time
Taps
Temple
Temples
Pictures
Lost
Keep
Looks

More quotes by Gayle Forman

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What would you do if you had to choose?
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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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I’ve been feeling something else. Like I’m about to be sucked into something powerful and painful.
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And that's just it, isn't it? That's how we manage to survive the loss. Because love, it never dies, it never goes away, it never fades, so long as you hang on to it.
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And I kissed him back so hard, like I was trying to merge our bodies through our lips.
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And something tells me if it matters, maybe it shouldn't be easy.
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I like French fries, I say. I like French fries? I sound like a slow child in a made-for-TV movie.
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You forget, time doesn't exist anymore. You gave it to me.
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I'm not choosing, but I'm running out of fight.
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Sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love.
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Needle and thread flesh and bone Spit and sinew, heartbreak is home. Your suture lines, they sparkle like diamonds Bright stars to light my confinement Stitch.
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That’s the thing you never expect about grieving, what a competition it is.
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Love can make you immortal
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So are you moving on now? Is that what brought you to the grand metropolis of Valladolid?” “No. The wind just blew me here.” “What? Like a plastic bag?” “I prefer to think of myself as a ship. Like a sailboat.
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Sleep would be so welcome. A warm blanket of black to erase everything else. Sleep without dreams. I've heard people talk about the sleep of the dead. Is that what death would feel like? The nicest, warmest, heaviest never-ending nap? If that's what it's like, I wouldn't mind. If that's what dying is like, I wouldn't mind that at all.
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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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In that twisted incestuous way of fate, Mia's a part of our history, and we're among the shards of her legacy.
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How can it be so unclear to her when it's like the fingers on my hand to me?
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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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In the middle of L.A.'s sunny non-winter, I need to sit in a dark closet to feel right.
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