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Reality is crushing. The world is a wrong-sized shoe. How can anyone stand it?

Jandy Nelson

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Jandy Nelson
Age: 58
Born: 1965
Born: November 25
Writer
New York City
New York
Stand
Anyone
Wrong
Reality
Sized
World
Crushing
Shoe
Crush
Shoes

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That's exactly it—I am crazy sad, and somewhere deep inside, all I want is to fly.
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In one split second I saw everything I could be, everything I want to be. And all that I'm not.
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It’s never occurred to me that the stars are still up there shining even in the daytime when we can’t see them.
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... every available inch of his face busts into a smile - whoa. Has he blown into our school on a gust of wind from another world? The guy looks unabashedly jack-o'-lantern happy, which couldn't be more foreign to the sullen demeanor most of us strove to perfect.
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But then I think about my sister and what a shell-less turtle she was and how she wanted me to be one too. C'mon, Lennie, she used to say to me at least ten times a day. C'mon Len. And that makes me feel better, like it's her life rather than her death that is now teaching me how to be, who to be.
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And why do English people sound smarter than the rest of us? Like they should be awarded the Nobel Prize for a simple greeting?
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The. World. Is. Not. A. Safe. Place.
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This is what I want: I want to grab my brother’s hand and run back through time, losing years like coats falling from our shoulders.
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For the first time in our lives, I’m somewhere she can’t find, and I don’t have the map to give her that leads to me.
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I can't shove the dark out of my way.
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grief is a house that disappears each time someone knocks at the door or rings the bell a house that blows into the air at the slightest gust that buries itself deep in the ground while everyone is sleeping
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The guy's life drunk, I think, makes Candide look like a sourpuss. Does he even know that death exists?
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No hot guys should be allowed to have an English accent and drive a motorcycle. Not to mention wear the leather jacket or sport the cool shades. Hot guys should be forced into footie pajamas.
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I heard this expression once: Each time someone dies, a library burns. I'm watching it burn right to the ground.
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It's such a colossal effort not to be haunted by what's lost, but to be enchanted by what was.
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And then he smiles, and in all the places around the globe where it's night, day breaks.
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We were all heading for each other on a collision course, no matter what. Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.
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I wish my shadow would get up and walk beside me.
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When he plays all the flowers swap colors and years and decades and centuries of rain pour back into the sky
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Our tongues have fallen madly in love and gotten married and moved to Paris.
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