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I know some of you are Thinking maybe I deserved it. But before you start pointing Fringers, let me ask you Is what I did really so bad? So bad I deserved to die? So bad I deserved to die like that? Is what I did really much worse Then what anybody else does? Is it really so much worse Than what you do?

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
Much
Worse
Really
Anybody
Thinking
Maybe
Like
Asks
Start
Dies
Else
Deserved
Doe
Pointing

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Amazing how hope lives. Without air or water, with hardly anything at all to nurture it.
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I start to follow her, and Alex grabs my hand. I'll find you, he says, watching me with the eyes I remember. I won't let you go again. I don't trust myself to speak. Instead I nod, hoping that he understands me. He squeezes my hand. Go, he says.
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I don't know whether these feelings - this thing growing inside of me - is something horrible and sick or the best thing that's ever happened to me. Either way, I can't stop it. I've lost control. And the truly sick thing is that despite everything, I'm glad.
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I start to back away before I do something wildly inappropriate, like jump on top of him.
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Waste today, want tomorrow.
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Music, I think, he makes me feel like music
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For a moment, my heart aches for him. I should never have asked him to join me here I should never have asked him to cross.
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Kent? I say, and my voice seems to have to rise from inside the fog, taking forever to get from my brain to my mouth. Yeah? Promise you'll stay here with me? I say. I promise, he whispers.
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Maybe next time, but probably not.
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And how she looked at me like I could save her from everything bad in he world. This was my secret: she was the one who saved me
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I feel a flash of grief so intense it almost makes me cry out: not for what I lost, but for the chances I missed.
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...and once at Hana's house, when we stole some blackberry liqueur from her parents' liquor cabinet and drank until the ceiling started spinning overhead. Hana was laughing and giggling, but I didn't like it, didn't like the sweet sick taste in my mouth or the way my thoughts seemed to break apart like a mist in the sun.
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I wonder whether she was sorry for leaving us behind.
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The devil stole into the Garden of Eden. He carried with him the disease - amor deliria nervosa - in the form of a seed. It grew and flowered into a magnificent apple tree, which bore apples as bright as blood. -From Genesis: A Complete History of the World and the Known Universe, by Steven Horace, PhD, Harvard University
Lauren Oliver
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And you should hear the music. Incredible, amazing music, like nothing you've ever heard, music that almost takes your head off, you know? That makes you want to scream and jump up and down and break stuff and cry.
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I love you. They can't take it away.
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I hate both of my parents right now: for sitting quietly in our house, while out in the darkness my heart was beating away all of the seconds of my life, ticking them off one by one until my time was up for letting the thread between us stretch so far and so thin that the moment it was severed for good they didn't even feel it.
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There are no happy endings, only breaks in the regular action.
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And you can't love, not fully, unless you are loved in return.
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I guess there are some things you never get used to.
Lauren Oliver