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Why don't you ever wait a second and see what I'm planning, or thinking, before you burst in with your opinions and ideas? You never even give me a chance.

Sarah Dessen

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Sarah Dessen
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: June 6
Novelist
Writer
Evanston
Illinois
Thinking
Waiting
Chance
Give
Burst
Ideas
Opinions
Ever
Planning
Giving
Wait
Even
Second
Never
Opinion

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Quiet and incredible. I really envy that.
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It was like discovering that some part of you wasn't yours at all. And it made me wonder what else I couldn't claim.
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And trying to break it down this way, to minor and major offenses, maybes and what-ifs, was like arguing over the origin of cracks in a broken egg. It was done. How it happened didn't matter anymore.
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How do you even begin to return to someone, much less convince them to do the same for you? I had no idea. More than ever, though, right then I had to believe the answer would just come to me.
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After everything that happened, how could I miss him? But I did, I did.
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Maybe, you just misplaced it, you know? It's been there. But you just haven't been looking in the right spot. Because lost means forever, it's gone. But misplaced... that means it's still around, somewhere. Just not where you thought.
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In the end, though, maybe it's not how you reach a place that matters. Just that you get there at all.
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You didn't have to take a punch for me, you know,' he said. 'I'm a lover, not a fighter.' 'You're a freak is what you are,' I said.
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Morris was not the type to offer a hug or even hold your hand. But there was something in his quiet indignation at the universe then--and Luke, now--that was just the kind of comfort I needed. I'm such a mess, I said. We're almost off the island and I didn't even ask you where you were going. He shrugged. No place. Wherever you are.
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I'd been running for years: there was nothing scarier, to me, than to just be still with someone. And yet, there on that dark road, going home, I was.
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You can't act like you care about someone but not let them care about you.
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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 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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Here was a boy who liked flaws, who saw them not as failings but as strengths. Who knew such a person could exist, or what would have happened if we'd found each other under different circumstances? Maybe in a perfect world. But not in this one.
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Because the truth sometimes hurts, I said. Yeah, he said. So do lies, though.
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When I pictured myself, it was always like just an outline in a colouring book, with the inside not yet completed.
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What were you two talking about? she whispered as Wes pulls the door shut. Nothing, I said. Running. You should have seen your face, she said, her breath hot in my ear. Sa-woooon.
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How weird that must be, to stay the same as everyone else changes.
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The world is speaking to you every day, you just don't know how to listen.
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So finally, I decided that the best response — the safest — was none at all.
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