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I want to be healed and whole and perfect again, like a misshapen slab of iron that comes out of the fire glowing, glittering, razor-sharp.

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
Healed
Sharp
Misshapen
Iron
Slab
Fire
Slabs
Perfect
Glittering
Comes
Razor
Whole
Razors
Like
Glowing

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Fridays are the hardest in some ways: you’re so close to freedom.
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And it's the funniest thing: as soon as I see it, the whistling in my ears stops and the feeling of terror drains away, and I realize this whole time I haven't been falling at all. I've been floating.
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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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In a world without love, this is what people are to each other: values, benefits, and liabilities, numbers and data. We weigh, we quantify, we measure, and the soul is ground to dust.
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Snapshots, moments, mere seconds: as fragile and beautiful and hopeless as a single butterfly, flapping on against a gathering wind.
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Please understand. Please forgive me. I prayed every day for you to be alive, until hope became painful. Don't hate me. I still love you.
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Love. I love you. I’ll always love you, my love. You are the love of my life.
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Is this freedom? Is it happiness? I don't know. I don't care anymore. It is different--it is being alive.
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There are some losses we never get over.
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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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My first kiss. A new kind of kiss, like the new kind of music still playing, softly, in the distance - wild and arrhythmic, desperate. Passionate.
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If you take, we will take back. Steal from us, and we will rob you blind. When you squeeze, we will hit. This is the way the world is made now.
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I don't know where to go. I don't know what comes now. Don't worry, Will said. We'll figure something out. Liesl managed to smile at him. She liked that word: *we*. It sounded warm and open, like a hug.
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There are no happy endings, only breaks in the regular action.
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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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Lies are just stories, and stories are all that matter. We all tell stories. Some are more truthful than others, maybe, but in the end the only thing that counts is what you can make people believe.
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Now I'd rather be infected with love for the tiniest sliver of a second than live a hundred years smothered by a lie.
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And a face above mine, white and beautiful, eyes as large as the moon. You saved me. A hand on my cheek, cool and dry. Why did you save me? Words welling up on a tide: No, the opposite. Eyes the colour of a dawn sky, a crown of blond hair, so bright and white and blinding I could swear it was a halo.
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I don't love you, Lena. Do you hear me? I never love you.
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Because if it weren’t for me, Lena and Alex would never have been caught at all. I told on them. I was jealous.
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