Quote

Funny how time heals. Like that bullet in my ribs. It's there, I know it's there, but I can barely feel it at all anymore.

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
Funny
Feel
Heals
Feels
Ribs
Time
Bullet
Like
Barely
Bullets
Heal
Anymore

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We are always being pushed and squeezed down one road or another. We have no choice but to step forward, and then step forward again, and then step forward again suddenly we find ourselves on a road we haven't chosen at all.
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Sometimes I'm afraid to go to sleep because of what I'm leaving behind.
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When he speaks again, I can tell that he's smiling. So I guess we saved each other.
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anything, anything is possible, if you can just see the sky.
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It occurs to me that for a long time she has been doing her own version of resisting.
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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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That's what time does: We stand stubbornly like rocks while it flows all around us, believing that we are immutable - and all the time we're being carved, and shaped, and whittled away.
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No guy in his right mind would ever choose me when there are people like Hana in the world: It would be like settling for a stale cookie when what you really want is a big bowl of ice cream, whipped cream and cherries and chocolate sprinkles included.
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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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His eyes are the color of honey. These are the eyes I remember from my dreams.
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Maybe before you die, it's your ghosts you see.
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That's the thing: We didn't really care. A world without love is also a world without stakes.
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It's amazing how close I have been, all this time, to my old life. And yet the distance that divides me from it is vast.
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People are like ants: Just a few of them give all the orders. And most of them spend their lives getting squashed.
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It's funny how you can know your friends so well, but you still end up playing the same games with them.
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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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Once Mo had closed the gates, he returned to his little stone hut, and his half-eaten sandwich of butter and canned sardines, and his mug of thick hot chocolate, which every night he poured carefully into a thermos labeled COFFEE.
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And there it is: Even though we’re standing in the same patch of sun-drenched pavement, we might as well be a hundred thousand miles apart.
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