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She's been conned, ruined, left for dead, and she's not going to forgive any of it. She will soldier on, if only out of spite.

Lauren DeStefano

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Lauren DeStefano
Age: 40
Born: 1984
Born: October 13
Author
Novelist
Connecticut
United States
Ruined
Forgive
Spite
Soldier
Forgiving
Dead
Left
Going
Conned

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None of the wives mention the security guards by the door, who will probably tackle us to the ground if we try to leave without our husbands.
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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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You’re insane, you know that?” he says. “It’s the only thing keeping me afloat,” I say.
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It is the face of a girl who has seen the world, who realizes that it hates her, and who hates it in return.
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You've been captive for so long that you don't even realize you want freedom anymore.
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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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There's a world out there that nobody has bothered to promise her.
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Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.
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She would do anything, anything to belong to his son after a lifetime of belonging to no one at 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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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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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 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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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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Once upon a time there were two parents, two children, and a brick house with lilies in the yard. The parents died, the lilies wilted. One child disappeared. Then the other. Pg 225
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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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There is a dark place calling to me, but I will not go just yet. I know I can't return from it.
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Life is much different from the days when there were lilies in my mother’s garden, and all my secrets fit into a paper cup.
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I want to make a world more magical than my own. I don't care if it makes sense, I don't care if it's ridiculed or if, rather than a neat round planet that goes around forever, it ends with a cliff that falls off into nothing. I want to have my eyes wide open, and I want to see this room and at the same time, not this room.
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Humans are the absolute worst thing to happen to this planet.
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