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But there was something I liked about the idea of those seeds buried so deep having at least a chance to emerge

Sarah Dessen

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Sarah Dessen
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 6
Novelist
Writer
Evanston
Illinois
Liked
Deep
Least
Chance
Idea
Ideas
Emerge
Something
Buried
Seeds

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You, have this whole tall, dark stranger thing going on. Not to mention the tortured artist bit. And you, have that whole blonde cool and collected perfect smart thing going on. You're the boy all the girls want to rebel with. You, are the unattainable girl in homeroom who never gives a guy the time of day.
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Music is a total constant. That's why we have such a strong visceral connection to it, you know? Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in your or the world, that one song says the same, just like that moment.
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Impulsiveness can be charming but deliberation can have an appeal, as well.
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Accepting all the good and bad about someone. It's a great thing to aspire to. The hard part is actually doing it.
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Maybe my sister and I shared more than we thought. We were both waiting and wishing for something we couldn't completely control: I wanted to be alone, and she the total opposite. It was weird, really, to have something so contrary in common. But at least it was something.
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So finally, I decided that the best response — the safest — was none at all.
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Because the truth sometimes hurts, I said. Yeah, he said. So do lies, though.
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And that was as far as he got before i heard it. The thumping of footsteps, running up the lawn toward me: It seemed like I could hear it through the grass, like leaning your ear to a railroad track and feeling the train coming, miles away. As the noise got closer I could hear ragged breaths, and then a voice. It was my mother.
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but you could also look at it the other way. Like you’re saying no matter how bad things are for you, I can still relate.
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Everything, in the end, comes down to timing. One second, one minute, one hour could make all the difference.
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Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight, how it holds you in place.
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Even if you couldn't see it beneath the surface, molecules were bonding, energy pushing up slowly, as something worked do hare, all alone to grow.
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I am not breaking my rules,' I snapped, hating that I'd ended up on the advice-recieving end of things, jumping from Dear Remy to Confused in Cincinnati all in one summer.
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If this was my forever, I wouldn't want to spend it here.
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Because now, I didn't care what they thought. It wasn't new, this realization that I would never be like them. What was different now was that I was glad. Macy page 199
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An ending was an ending. No matter how many pages of sentences and paragraphs of great stories led up to it, it would always have the last word.
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I'd been through so much, falling short again and again, and only recently had found a place where who I was, right now, was enough.
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After the group vet appointment--during which Lyle scratched the vet, the vet tech, and some poor woman minding her own business in the waiting room--we went back to Sabrina's and re-released the cats to their natural habitat.
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All you could do was take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you're lucky, there's someone close enough by to shoulder the rest.
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