Quote

No one ever asks a kid for her opinion, but it seems to me that growing up means you stop hoping for the best, and start expecting the worst.

Jodi Picoult

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Jodi Picoult
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: May 19
Author
Novelist
Writer
Nesconset
New York
Jodi Lynn Picoult
Asks
Start
Means
Hoping
Kids
Expecting
Seems
Worst
Best
Stop
Ever
Opinion
Mean
Growing

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From that point of view, I realized that my hole was not miles deep after all. My father, in fact, could stand on the bottom and it only reached up to his chest. Darkness, you know, is relative.
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No child really chooses his religion it is just the luck of the draw which blanket of beliefs you are wrapped in.
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I think we deserve a happily-ever-after. If anyone ever did, it's us.
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Lies were only as strong as the suckers that believed them.
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There are just as many stories to be told in the dark spots s there are in the bright ones.
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No matter how much you consumed, you would not have your fill.
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You can't be real, Delilah murmurs. Says who? I ask. Did you really think that a story exists only when you're reading it?
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You know how hind-sight is 20/20? Love is when you look back and wouldn't change anything.
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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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Although you hadn't asked why, it had less to do with you not noticing than with you not wanting to hear the answer.
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the relationship between people knot so easily, there needs to be a person skilled at working free the threads. Sometimes, though, the only way to extricate a tangle is to cut it out and start fresh.
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When you’re hurting deeply, you go inward.
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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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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.
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She felt a cage coming down around her too late she realized that he had her trapped by the heart. And like any unwilling animal that was well and truly caught, she could escape only by leaving a piece of herself behind.
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Writing is grunt work - you need to have self-motivation, perseverance, and faith... talent is the smallest part of it.
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Jacob's room is the place entropy goes to die.
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A lie, as you probably know, has a taste all its own. Blocky and bitter and never quite right.
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Mistakes are like the memories you hide in an attic: old love letters from relationships that tanked, photos of dead relatives, toys from a childhood you miss. Out of sight is out of mind, but somewhere deep inside you know they still exist. And you also know that you're avoiding them.
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