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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

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Lauren DeStefano
Age: 39
Born: 1984
Born: October 13
Author
Novelist
Connecticut
United States
Would
Wildfires
Spark
Sparks
Dead
Sort
Passion
Live
Years
Wildfire

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But I know all the things you're too sweet to know.
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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.
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Humans are the absolute worst thing to happen to this planet.
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Someday I'll tell you all of it, I say. I'd like that, he says. No, I say. I promise you won't.
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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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You have a way of looking at things. You make it seem as though everything's going to be okay. I can't imagine a more dangerous thing to have than hope like yours.
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The only characters I ever don't like are ones that leave no impression on me. And I don't write characters that leave no impression on me.
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There is a silence so great that I can hear the ice crystals cracking and falling from eyelashes of girls who will never blink again.
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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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I wish I had a memory of that first violent shove, the shock of cold air, the sting of oxygen into new lungs. Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.
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There is warmth shooting through my broken body where there should be pain, and I put my arms around the back of his neck and I hold on to him. I hold on because you never know in this place when something good will be taken away.
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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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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 start trying to stay unconscious. The problem with this is that no amount of willpower can change the reality.
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I can hear my brother's voice in my head. Your problem is that you're too emotional. But how can I not be emotional, Rowan? How can I not care?
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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've done it all before, I tell myself, and I can do it again. Trust is the strongest weapon.
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