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She had never been a pretty crier. She sobbed the way she did everything else - with passion and excess.

Jodi Picoult

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Jodi Picoult
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: May 19
Author
Novelist
Writer
Nesconset
New York
Jodi Lynn Picoult
Everything
Way
Never
Crier
Sobbed
Excess
Pretty
Passion
Else

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Pick ten strangers and stick them in a room, and ask them which of us they feel sorrier for - you or me - and we all know who they'll choose.
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Traveling is all very well and good as long as you knew there is a place or person you can call home
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If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?
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Reason number 106 why dogs are smarter than humans: once you leave the litter, you server contact with your mothers.
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There is no one truth. There’s only what happened, based on how you perceive it.
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So much of marriage was implicit and nonverbal. Had I gotten so complacent I'd forgotten to communicate?
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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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The wolves knew when it was time to stop looking for what they'd lost, to focus instead on what was yet to come.
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See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it
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I am not keeping my distance because it is uncomfortable for me, but because it is uncomfortable for them.
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There was no black or white. Someone who had been good her entire life could, in fact, do something evil. People were just as capable of committing murder, under the right circumstances, as any monster.
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You can touch everything and be connected to nothing.
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Ross held her face between his hands and kissed her. He tasted doubt on her tongue and pain on the roof of her mouth. He swallowed these, and drank again. Consumed, she had no choice but to see how empty he was inside, and how, sip by sip, she filled him.
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You don't make a friend, Jacob said with a scowl. It's not like they come with directions like you'd find on a box of macaroni and cheese.
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The human capacity for burden is like bamboo- far more flexible than you'd ever believe at first glance.
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if you don't get sick, you won't get well.
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In fairytales, when the mask came off, the handsome prince still loved the girl, no matter what -and that alone would turn her into a princess.
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I remember for that one moment, I believe I was hitch hiking on one of those comets, falling so fast that I'd surely burn away before I ever hit the ground.
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She was forced to consider the startling fact that the love of her life might not actually be someone with whom she could spend a lifetime.
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But that's what love is, isn't it? When it hurts you more to see someone suffer than it does to take the pain away?
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