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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)

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
Somebody
Pretty
Wish
Ever
Matter
Thinks
Sometimes
Although
Would
Nobody
Thinking
Second

More quotes by Lauren Oliver

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They’d already taken her from me once. I didn’t want to lose her again.
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What glitters may not be gold and even wolves may smile and fools will be led by promises to their deaths.
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That's the beauty of the cure. No one mentions those lost, hot days in the field, when Thomas kissed Rachel's tears away and invented worlds just so he could promise them to her, when she tore the skin off her own arm at the thought of living without him.
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People could push and pull at you, and poke you, and probe as deep as they could go. They could even tear you apart, bit by bit. But at the heart and root and soul of you, something would remain untouched.
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Feelings aren't forever. Time waits for no one, but progress waits for man to enact it.
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Someday she will be saved, and the past and all its pain will be rendered as smoothly palatable as the food we spoon to our babies.
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He's stuck with me and I'm stuck with him. We're stuck. That's what growing up is all about, I guess.
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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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But...books are so much more. Some of them are webs you can feel your way along their threads, but just barely, into strange and dark corners. Some of them are balloons bobbing up through the sky: totally self-contained, and unreachable, but beautiful to watch. And some of them―the best ones―are doors.
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But from the beginning, I knew that in a world where destiny was dead, I was destined, forever, to love him. Even though he didn't - though he couldn't - ever love me back.
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It's too late. I've seen things...I've lost things you can't understand.
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The first time I saw you, at the Governor, I handn't been to watch the birds at the border in years. But that's what you reminded me of. You were jumping up, and you were yelling something, and your hair was coming loose from your ponytail, and you were so fast... He shakes his head. Just a flash, and then you were gone, Exactly like a bird.
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Nobody ever said life was fair.
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That was what her parents did not understand—and had never understood—about stories. Liza told herself storied as though she was weaving and knotting an endless rope. Then, no matter how dark or terrible the pit she found herself in, she could pull herself out, inch by inch and hand over hand, on the long rope of stories.
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There are no happy endings, only breaks in the regular action.
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Fridays are the hardest in some ways: you’re so close to freedom.
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Less than a month ago all of August still stretched before us - long and golden and reassuring, like an endless period of delicious sleep.
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If you cross a line and nothing happens, the line loses meaning.
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It will kill me, it will kill me, it will kill me. And I don't care.
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Live free or die.
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