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You bought me some forks. And knives. And spoons. Because you love me!

Sarah Dessen

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Sarah Dessen
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 6
Novelist
Writer
Evanston
Illinois
Spoons
Forks
Knives
Bought
Love

More quotes by Sarah Dessen

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Okay, he said. He took a breath. What would you do, if you could do anything? I took a step toward him, closing the space between us. This. I said. And then I kissed him.
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Two a.m.' He swallowed, then said, You know. The person you can call at two a.m. and, no matter what, you can count on them. Even if they're asleep or it's cold or you need to be bailed out of jail...they'll come for you. It's like, the highest level of friendship.
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Life is long. Just because you don't get your chance right when you want or expect it doesn't mean it won't come. Fate doesn't punch a time clock or consult a schedule.
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Please. She sighed. 'Can't a girl have high standards? I don't want an ordinary boy.
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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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He doesn’t love me. He might still love me as I was at fifteen, when I didn’t know any better. When I trusted everyone. I’m not that person any more. He’s just a boy. He was the first to really hurt me, but he’s just a boy. There were a lot of them.
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Just because something's damaged doesn't mean it shouldn't be treated with respect.' 'Ad,' Wallace said, 'it's a coffee table, not an orphan.
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I wasn’t ready to think about the other yet: that it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for Macon, but that maybe he wasn’t right for me. There was a difference. Even for someone who things didn’t come easy for, someone like me.
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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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It is kind of hard to hold a lot in. But for me… it’s sometimes even harder to let it out.
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It's not always easy being her daughter.' I think,' she said, 'sometimes it's hard no matter whose daughter you are.
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But it was too early to know: there were always more pages to go, more words to be written, before the story was over.
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Some things you don't have to tell. Some things, between sisters, are understood.
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call it chicken salad
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This was just one night, one chance to vary and see where it took me. The fireflies were probably already out: maybe it wasn’t just a season or a time but a whole world I’d forgotten. I’d never know until I stepped out into it. So I did.
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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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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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In a way, I was almost happy to see her. The worst part of me, out in the flesh. Blinking back at me in the dim light, daring me to call her a name other than my own.
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Just me and the future, finally together. Now there was a happy ending I could believe in.
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Some things don't last forever, but some things do.
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