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And then, just at that moment, when I'm no longer sure if I'm dreaming or awake or walking some valley in between where everything you wish for comes true, I feel the flutter of his lips on mine.

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
Everything
Longer
Valley
Feel
Sure
Dreaming
Feels
Moment
Valleys
Wish
Awake
Comes
Lips
Moments
Mines
True
Mine
Dream
Walking
Flutter

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i feel like a curtain has dropped away and i'm seeing people for who they really are, different, and sharp, and unknowable.
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The question was: Will you meet me tomorrow? And the word was: Yes.
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I’m sorry for everything.” Then he turns and pushes back into the woods, and he’s gone.
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But maybe happiness isn't in the choosing. Maybe it's in the fiction, in the pretending: that wherever we have ended up is where we intended to be all along.
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Maybe before you die, it's your ghosts you see.
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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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Happiness is found when no one is looking
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I'm overwhelmed with sadness for everything that was lost, and filled with anger toward the people who took it away. My people-or at least, my old people. I don't know who I am anymore, or where I belong. That's not totally true...I know I belong with Alex.
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One of the strangest things about life is that it will chug on, blind and oblivious, even as your private world - your little carved-out sphere - is twisting and morphing, even breaking apart.
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Let me tell you something about dying: it's not as bad as they says. it's the coming-back-to-life part that hurts.
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I close my eyes. An image flashes—emerging from the van with Julian after our escape from New York City believing, in that moment, that we had escaped the worst, that life would begin again for us. Instead life has only grown harder.
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There are some losses we never get over.
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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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There are no happy endings, only breaks in the regular action.
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This is what happens when you try to help people. You get screwed.
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Fred is officially the mayor of Portland now.
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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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Of course. That's what people do in a disordered world, a world of freedom and choice: they leave when they want. They disappear, they come back, they leave again. And you are left to pick up the pieces on your own.
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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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