Quote

Maybe honesty is overvalued. What's truly priceless is picking out from a stream of falsehoods the ones you most need to hear.

Jodi Picoult

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Jodi Picoult
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: May 19
Author
Novelist
Writer
Nesconset
New York
Jodi Lynn Picoult
Maybe
Picking
Need
Stream
Needs
Falsehood
Streams
Honesty
Truly
Overvalued
Ones
Falsehoods
Hear
Priceless

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If you have a sister and she dies, do you stop saying you have one? Or are you always a sister, even when the other half of the equation is gone?
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people think they know what they're getting, and they're always wrong.
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I can see myself now, she said. And I can see what I want to be, ten years from now. But I don't understand how I'm going to get from here to there.
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Beliefs are the roads we take to our dreams. Believe you can do something-or believe you can't-and you'll be right everytime.
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Who spit in your porridge?
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I imagine how cool it would be if all small talk wasn't lies.
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Being a teenager isn't all that different from being part of someone else's story. There's always someone who thinks they know better than you do
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Maybe I was naïve to think that silence was implicit complacence, instead of a festering question. Maybe I was silly to believe that friends owed each other anything.
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Scars are just a treasure map for pain you've buried too deep to remember.
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As a child, what I was missing was so much bigger to me than what I had. My mother-mythic, imaginary-was a deity and a superhero and a comfort all at once. If only I'd had her, surely, she would have been the answer to every problem if only I'd had her , she would have been the cure for everything that ever had gone wrong in my life.
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It's never the differences between people that suprise us. It's the things that, against all odds, we have in common.
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something is always falling apart in me.
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If it's us, she whispered, how come you get to decide? When he didn't answer - couldn't answer - she turned and stared out the front window. As it turned out, they were still in the parking lot. They hadn't gotten anywhere at all.
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Life sometimes gets so bogged down in the details, you forget you are living it.
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I imagined what it would be like to hold a butterfly in your hands something bejeweled and treasured and to know that despite your devotion it was dying by degrees.
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The only person who suffers, when you squirrel alway all that hate, is you.
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When you finally start to write something, do not let yourself stop...even when you are convinced it's the worst garbage ever. This is the biggest caveat for beginning writers. Instead, force yourself to finish what you began, and THEN go back and edit it.
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Coop kissed me deeply, drawing my breath from me in a long, sweet ribbon. Perhaps I haven't mentioned it, but I'm an expert when it comes to first steps. Are you, I said. Then tell me how. You close your eyes, Coop answered, and jump.
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Her mouth is always on the verge of a smile. It makes her look like there's always something amazing she needs to tell me, even when it's just hello.
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Isn't it amazing how, when you strip away everything, people are so much alike?
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