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The pressure of his touch through my jacket and my sweater was more assurance than any promise ever made to me. It was a touch that said, I have your back and I am here for you. If a girl wasn't careful, she could fall in love with a touch like that.

Justina Chen

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Justina Chen
Age: 56
Born: 1968
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Justina Chen
Justina Chen Headley
Back
Assurance
Ever
Careful
Made
Touch
Love
Pressure
Like
Promise
Sweater
Wasn
Sweaters
Girl
Jacket
Fall
Jackets

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My confidence was of the hothouse variety, carefully cultivated under highly regulated conditions. One wrong look, one mean comment, and my facade would wither.
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Getting lost is just another way of saying 'going exploring.
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But even quashed rebellions leave us different. Because freedom may be a forbidden fruit in tyrannies, but once tasted, it is unforgettable.
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Come on, don't you ever stop and smell the coffee?
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You would be surprised what two hours of daily exercise and five hundred stomach crunches can do for you.
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To dream is to starve doubt, feed hope.
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I wondered about her chicken-and-egg relationship with Dad. Which came first? Her helplessness or his controlling?
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Adventure in life is good consistency in coffee even better.
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Safe, I decided, didn't leave much room for fun.
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Maybe we don't have the same definition of about what's beautiful. So define it. Define true beauty.
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If Jacob was right and clothes were costumes and makeup a mask, then our attitudes and habits must be our shields.
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What was so miraculous about a relationship that was based more on my gratitude than on mutual self respect?
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You raze the old to raise the new.
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From her dubious tone alone, I could see how Karin had no idea how terrifying words spoken quietly could be. How words chosen precisely to wreak maximum damage ticked like a bomb in your head, but exploded in your heart hours later, leaving you scarred and changed.
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I hated roses. I hated them for being so trite, so clichéd, a default, all-purpose flower that said I love you, I'm sorry, and get well soon. Give me peonies and tulips, orchids or gardenia. Those were flowers with character.
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I preferred my brand of beauty where Norah was more beautiful than any bimbette, and Mom was beautiful whether sized extra-small or extra-large. Where Peony could look at herself in the mirror and murmur, wow, look at me. Just look at me.
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