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If you didn't love him, this never would have happened. But you did. And accepting that love and everything that followed it is part of letting it go.
Sarah Dessen
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Sarah Dessen
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 6
Novelist
Writer
Evanston
Illinois
Everything
Never
Dreamland
Would
Followed
Love
Letting
Accepting
Happened
Didn
Part
More quotes by Sarah Dessen
Because you have to just go with the flow. Your life is not your own, with people coming in and out all the time. You get mellow because you have to.
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He's very nice. He's something I replied. She considered this zipping her purse shut. Then she said Well everyone is. Everyone is Something. For some reason that stuck with me simple and yet not every since she'd said it. It was like a puzzle as well two vague words with one clear one between them.
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After all with me & Marshall, it had never been about words or conversation, where there was too much to be risked or lost. Here, though, in the quiet pressed against each other, this felt familiar to me. And it was nice to let someone get close again, even if it was just for a little while.
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Times like this it did seem real I was leaving, and even more that my family, and this life, would go on without me. And again I felt that emptiness rise up, but pushed it away. Still, I lingered there, in the doorway, memorizing the noise. The moment. Tucking it away out of sight, to be remembered when I needed it most.
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its been a long night aren't they all?
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I should have told you from the start. I will let you down.
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I watched my mother do what she did best, and realized there would never be a way to cut myself from her entirely. No matter how strong or weak I was, she was a part of me, as crucial as my own heart. I would never be strong enough, in all my life, to do without her.
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I just thought to my self, all of a sudden, that we had something in common. A natural chemistry, if you will. And I had a feeling that something big was going to happen. To both of us. That we were, in fact, meant to be together.
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There's a kind of radar that you get, after years of being talked about and made fun of by other people. You can almost smell it when it's about to happen, can recognize instantly the sound of a hushed voice, lowered just enough to make whatever is said okay. I had only been in Colby for a few weeks. But I had not forgotten.
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I think part of the problem sometimes is that there's so much happening in my books, to whittle it down into a single script is hard.
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It's always very pure, that last moment before an ugly, unsettling truth hits someone. The most stark of before-and-afters.
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I feel like Twitter was tailor-made for me, because I can do short spurts all day long. I loved my blog, but doing daily, then thrice weekly entries was really time consuming. 140 characters is perfect.
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Needing was so easy: it came naturally, like breathing. Being needed by someone else, though, that was the hard part. But as with giving help and accepting it, we had to do both to be made complete-like links overlapping to form a chain, or a lock finding the right key.
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It's harder that in looks, I told him when I finally got back in the car. Most things are.
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I'd seen another shade of him, and if it had been light where we were now, he'd have seen the same of me. So I was grateful, as I had been so often in my life, for the dark.
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Like it takes so little not only to change something, but to make you forget the way it once was, as well.
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My sister, who never understood most of the things I wanted her to, might have been able to understand what had happened to me in this summer of weddings and beginnings. And she was right. The first boy was always the hardest.
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So while it seemed like you were seeing everything, you really weren't. Just bits and pieces that looked like a whole.
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Not for the first time, I wished both of us could just say what we meant. But that, like so much else, was impossible
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You didn't fail. You just opted out. There's a difference.
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