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It doesn't matter how much his mother loves him love is not enough to keep any of us alive.

Lauren DeStefano

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Lauren DeStefano
Age: 40
Born: 1984
Born: October 13
Author
Novelist
Connecticut
United States
Love
Loves
Alive
Keep
Doesn
Mother
Matter
Enough
Much

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The thing about hope is that it doesn't go away even when it serves no purpose.
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Tell freedom I said hello.' 'If I happen to see it, I will.
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When I am writing anything in general, I just want to tell the story that exists in my head I don't try to write a parable or make a point.
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I'm suddenly finding it hard to know the difference between nightmares and consciousness.
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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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Momentum,' She repeats. 'You can't just stand there if you want something to fly. You have to run.
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The seeds are tiny, unborn things, and I resent them. They'll be planted and they'll grow into exactly what they're meant to be.
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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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There was a desperate undercurrent to our marriage--a feeling of being in a dream from which I couldn't seem to awaken. A nagging sense that my life, laid out so neatly like the clothes Deirdre left on my divan, was no longer my own.
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There's nothing here to say good-bye to. There's no dancing girl. No mischievous smile. She's gone, off with her sisters, broken free, escaped. And if she were here now, she would say, Go.
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I'll tell you something about true love. There's no science to it. It's as natural as the sky.
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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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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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Good night, sweetheart, he says. Good bye, sweetheart, I say. And it's so casual, so innocent that he doesn't suspect a thing.
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We are stronger than we've credited ourselves to be. We have been the victims and the witnesses. We have said a lifetime of good-byes.
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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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Even things that aren't broken can be fixed.
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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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