Quote

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?

Lauren DeStefano

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Lauren DeStefano
Age: 40
Born: 1984
Born: October 13
Author
Novelist
Connecticut
United States
Next
Breath
Lace
Shows
Breaths
Framed
Things
Skin
Stare
Would
Skins
Hollow
Bones
Fragile
Rise
Throat
Weight
Staring
Show
Shoulders
Collarbone

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Most dystopian, classic and contemporary, paints a future world that puts a twist on present society - a future world that could plausibly happen.
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What have you done? What have you given up?' So many things, Cecily. More than you know.
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Gabriel's voice can reach me anywhere. Even in a hurricane.
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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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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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You’re insane, you know that?” he says. “It’s the only thing keeping me afloat,” I say.
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But I know all the things you're too sweet to know.
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It's best to let her go, he says. No, no, that's wrong. It's never right to give up on someone.
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A strange thing, words. Once they're said, it's hard to imagine they're untrue.
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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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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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Lovers are weapons, but love is a wound.
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For males twenty-five is the fatal age. For women it's twenty. We are all dropping like flies.
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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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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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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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Love is not enough to keep any of us alive.
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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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