Quotes by Jodi Picoult

Annie turned away, her eyes glittering. Heres what no one tells you, she said. When you deliver a fetus, you get a death certificate, but not a birth certificate. And afterward, your milk comes in, and theres nothing you can do to stop it. She looked up at me. You cant win. Either you have the baby and wear your pain on the outside, or you dont have the baby, and you keep that ache in you forever. I know I didnt do the wrong thing. But I dont feel like I did the right thing, either.

Motherhood is a Sisyphean task. You finish sewing one seam shut, and another rips open. I have come to believe that this life Im wearing will never really fit.

There are legions of us, I realized. The mothers who have broken babies, and spend the rest of our lives wondering if we should have spared them. And the mothers who have let their broken babies go, who look at our children and see instead the faces of the ones they never met.

Heres what I hadnt realized: the mother you havent seen for almost thirty-six years isnt your mother, shes a stranger. Sharing DNA doesnt make you fast friends. This wasnt a joyous reunion. It was just awkward.

Maybe mothers - consciously or subconsciously - repelled their daughters in different ways.

I cannot admit this out loud. In the first place, we are expected to be supermoms these days, instead of admitting that we have flaws. It is tempting to believe that all mothers wake up feeling fresh every morning, never raise their voices, only cook with organic food, and are equally at ease with the CEO and the PTA.

Being a mother gives you a singular sort of vision, a prism through which you can see your child with many different faces all at once. It is the reason you can watch him shatter a ceramic lamp, and still remember him as an angel.

When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves: one for your enemy, and one for yourself.

Whether it was power they sought, or revenge, or love-well, those were all just different forms of hunger. The bigger the hole inside you, the more desperate you became to fill it.

You might not write well every day, but you can always edit a bad page. You cant edit a blank page.

I learn from my own daughter that you don’t have to be awake to cry.

Heroes didnt leap tall buildings or stop bullets with an outstretched hand; they didnt wear boots and capes. They bled, and they bruised, and their superpowers were as simple as listening, or loving. Heroes were ordinary people who knew that even if their own lives were impossibly knotted, they could untangle someone elses. And maybe that one act could lead someone to rescue you right back.

See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory thatsomeone has left this world, you are still in it. And the very act of livingis a tide: at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one dayyou look down and see how much pain has eroded.

When you have been burned by fire once, you dont leap into the flames again.

Our culture promotes individuality, while the Amish are deeply entrenched in community. To us, if someone stands out, its no big deal because diversity is respected and expected. To the Amish, theres no room for deviation from the norm. Its important to fit in, because that similarity of identity is what defines the society. If you dont fit in, the consequences are psychological tragic, you stand alone when all youve ever known is being part of the group.

On the other hand, I think cats have Aspergers. Like me, theyre very smart. And like me, sometimes they simply need to be left alone.

Repeat the same action over and over again, and eventually it will feel right. Eventually, there isnt even any guilt.

...one half leaning in, one half pulling away.

Most people who offer their help do it to make themselves feel better, not us. To be honest, I dont blame them. Its superstition: If you give assistance to the family in need... if you throw salt over your shoulder... if you dont step on the cracks, then maybe youll be immune. Maybe youll be able to convince yourself that this could never happen to you.

What if, ladies and gentlemen, today I told you that anyone here who was born on a Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday was free to leave right now? Also, theyd be given the most central parking spots in the city, and the biggest houses. They would get job interviews before others who were born later in the week, and theyd be taken first at the doctors office, no matter how many patients were waiting in line. If you were born from Thursday to Sunday, you might try to catch up – but because you were straggling behind, the press would always point to how inefficient you are. And if you complained, youd be dismissed for playing the birth-day card.” I shrug. “Seems silly, right? But what if on top of these arbitrary systems that inhibited your chances for success, everyone kept telling you that things were actually pretty equal?