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Why couldn't you let me have it? Why did you have to take it? Why did you always take everything?

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
Always
Couldn
Everything
Take

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This is what happens when you try to help people. You get screwed.
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It's like high school holds two different worlds, revolving around each other an never touching the haves and the have-nots. I guess it's a good thing. High school is supposed to prepare you for the real world, after all.
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Everything in me feels fluttering and free, like I could take off from the ground at any second. Music, I think, he makes me feel like music.
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The house, the pond, the tree-it was all both overwhelmingly familiar and different from what she remembered-smaller and shabbier, somehow. It was like waking up to find that your reflection in the mirror had aged overnight, or had sprouted a new mole: You were forced to admit that things changed, whether you gave them permission to or not.
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But how could anyone who's ever seen a summer - big explosion of green and skies lit up electric with splashy sunsets, a riot of flowers and wind that smells like honey - pick the snow?
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....love and desire enjoy a symbiotic relationship, meaning that one cannot exist without the other. Desire is an enemy to contentment desire is illness, a feverish brain. Who can be considered healthy who wants? The very word want suggests a lack, an impoverishment, and that is what desire is: an impoverishment of the brain, a flaw, a mistake.
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I will make a pact with you: I will do it if you will do it, always and forever. Take down the walls.
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Everything ends, people move on, they don't look back. It's how they should be.
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Even the greatest movements on earth, have their beginnings with something small.
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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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Amazing how hope lives. Without air or water, with hardly anything at all to nurture it.
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Hate isn’t the most dangerous thing, he’d said. Indifference is.
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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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You can't be happy unless you're unhappy sometimes.
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Fred is officially the mayor of Portland now.
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Raven jerks and stiffens. For a second, I think she is only surprised: Her mouth goes round, her eyes wide. Then she begins teetering backward, and I know that she is dead. Falling, falling, falling . . .
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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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I get that rush that comes when you know you're doing something wrong and are getting away with it, like stealing from the school cafeteria of getting tipsy at a family holiday without anyone knowing it.
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I don't know where to go. I don't know what comes now. Don't worry, Will said. We'll figure something out. Liesl managed to smile at him. She liked that word: *we*. It sounded warm and open, like a hug.
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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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