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I wonder whether she was sorry for leaving us behind.
Lauren Oliver
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Lauren Oliver
Age: 42
Born: 1982
Born: November 8
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Westchester County
New York
Leaving
Sorry
Behinds
Behind
Wonder
Whether
More quotes by Lauren Oliver
I'm starved for different light, a different sun,different sky.
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It's like there's a filter set up in my brain, except instead of making things better, it twists everything around so what comes out of my mouth is totally wrong, totally different from what I was thinking.
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Love, the deadliest of all things: It kills you both when you have it and when you don't. But that isn't it, exactly. The condemner and the condemned. The executioner the blade the last-minute reprieve the gasping breath and the rolling sky above you and the thank you, thank you, thank you God. Love: It will kill you and save you, both.
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Alex is dead, do you hear me? All of that-what we felt, what it meant- that's done now, okay? Buried. Blown away.
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The mark of the procedure. A real one. Lu is cured.
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Po flickered. Thank you? it repeated. What is that? Liesl thought. It means, You were wonderful, she said. It means, I couldn't have done it without you.
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It's like high school holds two different worlds, revolving around each other an never touching the haves and the have-nots. I guess it's a good thing. High school is supposed to prepare you for the real world, after all.
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Everywhere he touches is fire. My whole body is burning up, the two of us becoming twin points of the same bright white flame.
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I’ve never really had a party before.” “Why did you have one now?” I say, just to keep him talking. He gives a half laugh. “I thought if I had a party, you would come.
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Direction, like time, is a general thing, the deprived of boundaries and borders. It is an endless process interception and reinterception, doubling back and adjusting.
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No one can tell us no. No one can make us stop. We have picked each other and the rest of the world can go to hell.
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I'll find you, he says, watching me with the eyes I remember. I won't let you go again
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I remember Lena's expression when he knocked on the door and how Alex had looked at her when she finally let him into the storeroom. I remember exactly what he was wearing, too, and the mess of his hair, the sneakers with their blue-tinged laces. His right shoe was untied. He didn't notice. He didn't notice anything but Lena.
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There is no before. There is only now, and what comes next.
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I start to follow her, and Alex grabs my hand. I'll find you, he says, watching me with the eyes I remember. I won't let you go again. I don't trust myself to speak. Instead I nod, hoping that he understands me. He squeezes my hand. Go, he says.
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I guess there are some things you never get used to.
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They’d already taken her from me once. I didn’t want to lose her again.
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I'm not ugly but I'm not pretty either. Everything is in-between. I have eyes that aren't green or brown, but a muddle. I'm not thin but I'm not fat either. the only thing you could definitely say about me is that: I'm short
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I hate both of my parents right now: for sitting quietly in our house, while out in the darkness my heart was beating away all of the seconds of my life, ticking them off one by one until my time was up for letting the thread between us stretch so far and so thin that the moment it was severed for good they didn't even feel it.
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Sarah: Not bad. You look almost human. Lena: Thanks. Sarah: I said almost. Lena: Well, then, almost thanks.
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