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I always knew I was an excellent liar I just didn't know that I had it in me to fool myself.

Lauren DeStefano

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Lauren DeStefano
Age: 40
Born: 1984
Born: October 13
Author
Novelist
Connecticut
United States
Excellent
Fool
Knew
Didn
Always
Liar
Liars

More quotes by Lauren DeStefano

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Poor kid,' Jenna says, and rolls her eyes toward me for a moment. Then she returns to her book. 'She doesn't even understand what kind of place this is.
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I lost everyone I loved, I tell him. I wait for him to look at me, and then I add, The day I met you.
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There’s a limit to how much living can be done in a life without freedom.
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and I've always known it, the way I love a song I hear for the first time, even before I know all the words, the way I love my favorite color, and the way that the train would speed past my bedroom when it was very quiet and I'd feel it in my stomach rushing through me. I love you in a way that I've never felt needed to be said.
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He looks at me, and I don't know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she's not here with us now, in this room. It's just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.
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Childhood is a long, long road, from which that dark whispering forest of death seems an impossible destination.
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When I was 11 or 12, I was really bored with everything on my summer reading list. It was all happy, middle-grade kinds of books. I was getting frustrated, because I liked to read. My mother went to the library and got me a copy of 'The Other Side of Midnight' by Sidney Sheldon. It was my first adult book.
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I think, in this strange world of beautiful things, there may be some humanity after all.
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I figured it out eventually, she says. She's sitting on the edge of the gurney again her features slowly materialize as my vision clears. It's momentum. What? I whisper. The feeling returning to my lips, spreading out to my fingertips and toes. Momentum, she repeats. You can't just stand there if you want something to fly. You have
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I stare at her collarbone that's framed with lace, the hollow of her throat, her shoulders that rise with each rise with the weight of her next breath. We're fragile things. Our bones show through our skin. What would any god want with us?
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Eventually I realize that I am holding on to him just as tightly as he holds on to me. And here we are: two small dying things, as the world ends around us like falling autumn leaves.
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My sisters were in that van.
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He sits next to me, careful to avoid my hair that's splayed out around my head like blood. A bullet to the forehead, boom, blond waves everywhere.
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You can't be afraid. You can be sad if you like. You can be angry. But it's the fear that'll freeze you in place.
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I see an ocean that’s spilled out of a wineglass, its body clear and sparkling and folding over itself. I see a ribbon of sand.
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I think humans have always been desperate. I think it has always been about doing something awful if it might help, when the only other option is death. Maybe that's what being a parent is supposed to feel like.
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There's a world out there that nobody has bothered to promise her.
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It's quiet for a while, and then Rowan says We could talk now. We're alone out here. No walls. There are always walls. I say.
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It was my fifth grade teacher who introduced the idea that writing could be more than a hobby for me.
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There's a sort of dead passion in him. A spark that, had he more years to live, would be a wildfire.
Lauren DeStefano