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Droplets, droplets: we are all identical drips and drops of people, hovering, waiting to be tipped, waiting for someone to show us the way, to pour us down a path.
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
Waiting
Drips
Show
Droplets
Shows
Tipped
Someone
Hovering
Way
Drops
People
Pour
Identical
Path
More quotes by Lauren Oliver
Maybe all of these different possibilities exist at the same time, like each moment we live has a thousand other moments layered underneath it that look different.
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And in that moment, the wordless thing passed between us, the thing that wasn't quite love but was so close I could believe in it sometimes.
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Perhaps this was how the sparrows did it too perhaps they were looking so hard at the peaks and tips of the new rooftops coated with dew, and the vast new horizon, that they only forgot that they did not know how to fly until they were already in midair.
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This is the past: It drifts, it gathers. If you are not careful, it will bury you.
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I don't love you, Lena. Do you hear me? I never love you.
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Most people don't want to be saved. Besides, if you keep bailing everybody out, they'll never learn to paddle on their own.
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The sparrows jumped before they knew how to fly, and they learned to fly only because they had jumped.
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It was as though the darkness was a sheet of raw cookie dough and someone had just taken a cookie cutter and made a child-sized shape out of it.
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Then I think of the dark, and the lights, and the roaring, and Juliet, and before I can think of anything else, I fight the final few steps to the door and step out into the cold, where the rain is still coming down like shards of moonlight, or like steel.
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It's as though the words are trapped, buried under past fears, past lives, like fossils compressed under layers of dirt.
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Like I've been sketched by an amateur artist: if you don't look too closely, it's all right, but start focusing and all the smudges and mistakes become really obvious.
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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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Fear. Blame. Don't forget. Mom. I love you. -Lauren Oliver, Delerium
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An eye for an eye. And the whole world goes blind, Coral puts in quietly.
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Things change after you die, though, I guess because dying is the loneliest thing you can do.
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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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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'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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My heart is fluid and soaring. There's no longer any space between heartbeats.
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The idea—the fact of it, the fact that he even noticed and thought about me for more than one second—is huge and overwhelming, makes my legs go tingly and my hands feel numb.
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