Quote

The last laugh, the last cup of coffee, the last sunset, the last time you jump through a sprinkler, or eat an ice-cream cone, or stick your tongue out to catch a snowflake. You just don't know.

Lauren Oliver

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Lauren Oliver
Age: 41
Born: 1982
Born: November 8
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Westchester County
New York
Tongue
Cream
Laugh
Jump
Laughing
Ice
Lasts
Cups
Last
Catch
Cone
Time
Stick
Cones
Sticks
Snowflake
Coffee
Sunset

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Fear. Blame. Don't forget. Mom. I love you. -Lauren Oliver, Delerium
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My parents were pretty liberal, but they were still parents. I definitely had my teenage rebellion.
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When he speaks again, I can tell that he's smiling. So I guess we saved each other.
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Things would get difficult again. But that was okay too. The bravery was in moving forward, no matter what.
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Black is too morbid red will set them on edge pink is too juvenile orange is freakish
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It won't matter if nobody ever thinks I'm pretty (although sometimes I wish, just for a second, that somebody would)
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Music, I think, he makes me feel like music
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Stupid how the mind will try to distract itself.
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Life isn't life if you just float through it.
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Most of us won't see one another after graduation, and even if we do it will be different. We'll be different. We'll be adults--cured, tagged and labeled and paired and identified and placed neatly on our life path, perfectly round marbles set to roll down even, well-defined slopes.
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But how could anyone who's ever seen a summer - big explosion of green and skies lit up electric with splashy sunsets, a riot of flowers and wind that smells like honey - pick the snow?
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This is what I want. This is the only thing I've ever wanted. Everything else—every single second of every single day that has come before this very moment, this kiss—has meant nothing.
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Huamns, uregulated, are cruel and capricious violet and selfish miserable and quarrelsome. It is only after their instincts and basic emotions have been controlled that they can be happy, generous, and good.
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I just want to be normal, like everybody else. Are you sure that being like everybody else will make you happy?
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It was a bird. A bird struggling through stickiness: a bird coated in paint, floundering in its nest, splashing color everywhere. Red. Red. Red. Dozens of them: black feathers coated thickly with crimson-colored paint, fluttering among the branches. Red means run.
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That's when you really lose people, you know.When the pain passes.
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Love: a single word, a wispy thing, a word no bigger or longer than an edge.
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I've learned to get really good at this - say one thing when I'm thinking about something else, act like I'm listening when I'm not, pretend to be calm and happy when I'm really freaking out. It's one of the skills you perfect as you get older
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It was unfair that people could pretend to be one thing when they were really something else. That they would get you on their side and then do nothing but fail, and fail, and fail again. People should come with warnings, like cigarette packs: involvement would kill you over time.
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It was all very strange, Mr. Gray thought, as he wiped the coffee canister clean with a sponge. Very, very mysterious. You were born you lived a whole life and at the end, you wound up in a coffee canister. Ah, well, he said out loud quietly. That's just the way things are. Life's a funny business. Death, he supposed, was the punch line.
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