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How do you tell someone that you weren't the person he thought you were? And more importantly, how did you tell him that you'd meant the things you'd said, when everything else about you turned out to be a lie.

Jodi Picoult

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Jodi Picoult
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: May 19
Author
Novelist
Writer
Nesconset
New York
Jodi Lynn Picoult
Person
Turned
Everything
Meant
Things
Lying
Tell
Else
Someone
Thought
Importantly
Persons
Weren

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The saddest day in the world will be the one when she stops pretending.
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Q: How would you like your eggs in the morning? A: Unfertilized
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Men. You can't live with them...and you can't legally shoot them. I tossed out my husband eight years ago and got a llama instead. Best decision I ever made.
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It doesn't take a whole long life to realize that what we deserve to have, we rarely get.
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Whether it was power they sought, or revenge, or love-well, those were all just different forms of hunger. The bigger the hole inside you, the more desperate you became to fill it.
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A man should live his life a certain way not because of some divine authority, but because of a personal moral obligation to himself and others.
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All any of us wanted, really, was to know that we counted. That someone else's life would not have been as rich without us here.
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Some people don't know what to do with an act of kindness.
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The jury is supposed to be twelve peers, but technically that would mean every single person on the jury should have Asperger's syndrome, because then they'd really understand me.
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Is it a crime when you love someone so much that you can't stand the thought of them changing? Is it a crime when you love someone so much that you can't see clearly?
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You have to understand what you’re missing before you can really feel a loss.
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As anyone who's ever contracted it knows, lies are an infectious disease. They slip under the almond slivers of your fingernails and into your bloodstream.
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I think my writing has become cleaner.
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I don't know what he means by that, but I nod and smile at him. You'd be surprised at how far that response can get you in a conversation where you are completely confused.
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Love is not an equation, it is not a contract, and it is not a happy ending. Love is the slate under the chalk, the ground that buildings rise, and the oxygen in the air. It is the place you come back to, no matter where your headed
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I close my eyes, thinking that there is nothing like an embrace after an absence, nothing like fitting my face into the curve of his shoulder and filling my lungs with the scent of him.
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I learn from my own daughter that you don’t have to be awake to cry.
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Motherhood is a Sisyphean task. You finish sewing one seam shut, and another rips open. I have come to believe that this life I'm wearing will never really fit.
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I didn't want to see her because it would make me feel better. I came because without her, it's hard to remember who I am.
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She stares at me for a moment, and then she bursts out laughing. “You haven’t seen his perfect little wife and his perfect little girls. Believe me, Oliver, I’m not the great love of his life, the one he’ll never forget.” “You are to me,” I say.
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