Quotes by Jandy Nelson

Thats just how it is. Grief and love are conjoined, you dont get one without the other.

For days and days, the rain beat its fists on the roof of our house— evidence of the terrible mistake God had made. Each morning, when I woke I listened for the tireless pounding, looked at the drear through the window and was relieved that at least the sun had the decency to stay the hell away from us.

I dont believe time heals. I dont want it to. If I heal, doesnt that mean Ive accepted the world without her?

Sadness pulses out of us as we walk. I almost expect the trees to lower their branches when we pass, the stars to hand down some light. I breathe in the horsy scent of eucalyptus, the thick sugary pine, aware of each breath I take, how each one keeps me in the world a few seconds longer. I taste the sweetness of the summer air on my tongue and want to just gulp and gulp and gulp it into my body--this living, breathing, heart-beating body of mine.

As I walk through the redwood trees, my sneakers sopping up days of rain, I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes, when grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe.

I dont know how this can be but it can: A painting is both exactly rhe same and entirely different every single time you look at it.

I cant shove the dark out of my way.

Maybe a person is just made up of a lot of people, I say. Maybe were accumulating these new selves all the time.

Let me just unsubscribe to my own mind already, because I dont get any of it.

I look into his sorrowless eyes and a door in my heart blows open. And when we kiss, i see that on the other side of that door is sky.

The.World.Is.Not.A.Safe.Place.

Id been making desicions for days.I picked out the dress Bailey would wear forever-a black slinky one- innapropriate- that she loved.I chose a sweater to go over it, earrings, bracelet, necklace, her most beloved strappy sandals.I collected her makeup to give to the funeral director with a recent photo-I thought it would be me that would dress her;I didnt think a strange man should see her nakedtouch her bodyshave her legsapply her lipstickbut thats what happened all the same.I helped Gram pick out the casket,the plot at the cemetery.I changed a few linesin the obituary that Big composed.I wrote on a piece of paper what I thoughtshould go on the headstone.I did all this without uttering a word.Not one word, for days,until I saw Bailey before the funeraland lost my mind.I hadnt realized that when people say so-and-sosnappedthats what actually happens-I started shaking her-I thought I could wake her upand get her the hell out of that box.When she didnt wake,I screamed: Talk to me.Big swooped me up in his arms, carried me out of the room, the church,into the slamming rain,and down to the creekwhere we sobbed togetherunder the black coat he held over our headsto protect us from the weather.

If she were drowning, Id hold her head under

Me would like an invisibility cloak to get the hell out of this mess.

I have a very low eerie threshold.

Im thinking the reason Ive been so quiet all those years is only because Brian wasnt around yet for me to tell everything to.

In photographs of us together, she is always looking at the camera, and I am always looking at her.

I notice he doesnt have his meteorite bag and see out the window its probably going to pour any minute, but wee need to et out of here. Immediately. Were going to search for meteorites, I say, like thats what most people do on winter mornings. I never really told either of them too much about last summer, which is reflected in both of their flummoxed faces. But who freaking cares?Not us.In a flash, were through the door, across the street and into the woods, running for no reason and laughing for no reason and totally out of breath and out of our minds when Brian catches me by my shirt, whips me around, and with one strong hand flat against my chest, he pushes me against a tree and kisses me so hard I go blind.

What is bad for the heart is good for art.

Love does as it undoes. It goes after with equal tenacity: joy and heartbreak. Her happiness was his unhappiness and thats the unfair way it was.