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We lived in the attic, Christopher, Cory, Carrie, and me, Now there are only three.

Virginia C. Andrews

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Virginia C. Andrews
Attic
Attics
Christopher
Carrie
Lived
Three
Cory

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Unless i'm reading an assignment or doing a paper or taking a test, i'm thinking about you.
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At the end of the rainbow waited the pot of gold. But rainbows were made of faint and fragile gossamer-and gold weighed a ton-and since the world began, gold was the reason to do most anything.
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My thoughts took frantic flight, wanting to escape this prison, and seek out the wind so it could fan my hair and sting my skin, and make me feel alive again.
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It's funny how when you're little, you miss all the little lies. They float right past you, but you don't wonder about them much. For a long time, you think this is just something adults still do after being kids - pretend.
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You can trust a few some of the time, and most none of the time. Feel lucky if you have even one to trust all of the time.
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Love … I put so much faith in it. Truth … I kept believing it falls always from the lips of the one you love and trust the most. Faith … it’s all bound up to love and trust. Where does one end and the other start, and how do you tell when love is the blindest of all?
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... and still I stayed to plan all my revenge, my vengeance against those who had turned me from good to evil, and made of me what I was going to be from this day forward.
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It was the eyes. The secret of love was in the eyes. The way one person looked at another, the way eyes communicated and spoke when the lips never moved.
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The creative genius begins in the idle moment, dreaming up the impossible, and later making it come true.
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love, is an unnatural attachment to another living thing. it's the root cause of most personal problems people have.
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I am a pretty, useless ornament who always believed she'd have a man to take care of her.
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Seek the tarnish and you shall find
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Mine are the deep-seated fears established when we are children, and they never quite go away: the fear of being helpless, the fear of being trapped, the fear of being out of control.
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Tragedy had sent me headlong into reality. All the things I had seen before now looked different, even nature.
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There is no hate such as that born out of love betrayed- and my brain screamed out for revenge.
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Love doesn't always come when you want it to. Sometimes it just happens, despite your will.
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Dreams, I thought. They're the riches of a poor person, stashed in treasure chests buried deeply in the imagination. But are dreams enough?
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Love, in short is the most dangerous emotion human can experience
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Children are very wise intuitively they know who loves them most, and who only pretends.
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