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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.

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
Wherever
Along
Fiction
Maybe
Requiem
Happiness
Choosing
Intended
Pretending
Ended

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But this isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen, or imagined, or even dreamed: This is like music or dancing but better than both.
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Rainstorms are incredible: falling shards of glass, the air full of diamonds.
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You can try to pin me down with a hundred thousand arms, but I will find a way to resist
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But the guilt goes even deeper than that. It, too, is dust: Layers and layers of it have accumulated. Because if it weren’t for me, Lena and Alex would never have been caught at all. I told on them. I was jealous. God forgive me, for I have sinned.
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The priests and the scientists are right about one thing: At our heart, at our base, we are no better than animals.
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