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I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.

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
People
Sacrifice
Part
Give
Sometimes
Giving
Even
Things
Loving
Love
Guess

More quotes by Lauren Oliver

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People are like houses. They could open their doors. You could walk through their rooms and touch the objects hidden in their corners. But something--the structure, the wiring, the invisible mechanism that kept the whole thing standing--remai ned invisible, suggested only by the fact of its existing at all.
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It's an incredible thing, how you can feel so taken care of by someone and yet feel, also, like you would die or do anything just for the chance to protect him back.
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It's funny how you can know your friends so well, but you still end up playing the same games with them.
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I want to know. His words are a whisper, barely audible. I want to know with you.
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The salt blowing off the sea makes the air feel textured and heavy.
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If you cross a line and nothing happens, the line loses meaning.
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Poetry isn't like any writing I've ever heard before. I don't understand all of it, just bits of images, sentences that appear half-finished, all fluttering together like brightly colored ribbons in the wind.
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That's the thing about faith. It works.
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That is what Alex is now: a shadow-boy
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People could push and pull at you, and poke you, and probe as deep as they could go. They could even tear you apart, bit by bit. But at the heart and root and soul of you, something would remain untouched.
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That’s what made it so frightening to the lawmakers: Love obeys no laws other than its own.
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that's what it was like waking up in the crypts. no-longer-dead. but without her. like burning alive.
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It occurs to me that for a long time she has been doing her own version of resisting.
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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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He looked at me like I was beautiful.
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The question was: Will you meet me tomorrow? And the word was: Yes.
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I’m with Julian,” I say at last. This, after all, is what I have chosen.
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I need to live my life in the light of their deaths. I need to live.
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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.
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This is not the person I wanted to become: Hatred has carved a permanent place inside me, a hollow where things are so easily lost.
Lauren Oliver