Quotes by Justina Chen

What would it be like to look in the mirror and actually accept what you see? Not loathe the reflection, or despise it, or be resigned to it? But to like it?

When the creative impulse sweeps over you, grab it. You grab it and honor it and use it, because momentum is a rare gift.

He knew me in all the ways that truly mattered: the shape of my fears, the contours of my dreams.

If art made you think, then this was Art. Staring at the ball, made of layers and layers of cloth, I wondered about the glass marble at its heart. What if you wanted to reach that marble? Make sure it was still whole?Youd have to remove the layers. Youd have to risk breaking the ball for a chance at freeing it. Fear, knowledge, certainty - youd have to be willing to let them all go.

To dream is to starve doubt, feed hope.

There must be a few times in life when you stand at a precipice of a decision. When you know there will forever be a Before and an After...I knew there would be no turning back if I designated this moment as my own Prime Meridian from which everything else would be measured.

Flawed, were truly interesting, truly memorable, and yes, truly beautiful.

This is beautiful, I said, ignoring the shop window to trace the gleaming stone walls fronting another boutique.You know whats funny? Jacob asked. He didnt wait for my answer. You can see beauty in everything, except for yourself.***I swallowed hard. Erik thought my body was beautiful, Karin that it was enviable. At random times, people had noted that my hands were beautiful, or my hair. The Twisted Sisters had called my art beautiful. Mom had the best intentions and always told me before and after my laser surgeries that I would be beautiful. But no one had ever said that I was beautiful, all my parts taken together, not just the bits and pieces.

I didnt know that the world could be so mind-blowingly beautiful.

What swells inside me is a love so boundless, I am the sunrise and sunset. I am Liberty Bell in the Cascades. I am Beihai Lake. I am every beautiful, truly beautiful, thing Ive ever seen, captured in my personal Geographia, the atlas of myself.

I preferred my brand of beauty where Norah was more beautiful than any bimbette, and Mom was beautiful whether sized extra-small or extra-large. Where Peony could look at herself in the mirror and murmur, wow, look at me. Just look at me.

From her dubious tone alone, I could see how Karin had no idea how terrifying words spoken quietly could be. How words chosen precisely to wreak maximum damage ticked like a bomb in your head, but exploded in your heart hours later, leaving you scarred and changed.

My confidence was of the hothouse variety, carefully cultivated under highly regulated conditions. One wrong look, one mean comment, and my facade would wither.

Silence, too, can be torture.

Hey, if its a good philosophy, it works. Death is imminent. Live every day like its your last.

Jacob: Let her stare.Terra: What?Jacob: Yeah most of the starers are just curious. Smile back. Thats what I used to do.

Progress is hard on history.

I wondered about her chicken-and-egg relationship with Dad. Which came first? Her helplessness or his controlling?

Getting lost is just another way of saying going exploring.

North-ish. A pause, and then: Is that Terra for Im lost-ish?