Quotes by Lauren DeStefano

Because even if the lie is beautiful, the truth is what you face in the end.

A strange thing, words. Once theyre said, its hard to imagine theyre untrue.

Dont you miss it? I say. Being free.He laughs.

I wish I had a memory of that first violent shove, the shock of cold air, the sting of oxygen into new lungs. Everyone should remember being born. It doesnt seem fair that we only remember dying.

The clouds took on the shape of dancers; from somewhere far off, Pram heard music before the clouds became normal again.

It taught that there are three versions of things: the one I see in my mind, and the one that carries onto the paper, and then what it ultimately becomes.

Felix wasnt sure of his limits, if he had limits. After hed been dead a while, he began to suspect he could swim to the bottom of the oceans. Beyond that. He suspected that he could swim so far down that hed eventually go through the center of the earth and come out the other side. He could swim into the clouds, into the stars. Maybe there were ghosts on the other planets. Maybe there were ghosts laughing and splashing each other with the heat of the sun. He wasnt brave enough to find out.

Felix had left his heart buried in the ground years ago, but he felt it crack apart.

I have always been fascinated by the ocean, to dip a limb beneath its surface and know that Im touching eternity, that it goes on forever until it begins here again.

Jenna, standing in the doorway with her mouth and hand full of shelled pistachios, says, Real is a dirty word in this place.

Just being alive feels so arduous that all I want to do is climb under the covers and sleep.

Trust is the strongest weapon.

Shes been conned, ruined, left for dead, and shes not going to forgive any of it. She will soldier on, if only out of spite.

I dont dare touch her. Loss is a knowledge Im sorry to have. Perhaps the only thing worse than experiencing it, is watching it replay anew in someone else--all the awful stages picking up like a chorus that has to be sung.

He was now working his way through the many shades of grief. Sadness made everything gray, hed learned, but there were different types of gray, some darker than others. There were dark spots in his memories he wasnt brave enough to enter.

He looks at me, and I dont know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But shes not here with us now, in this room. Its just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.

Its quiet for a while, and then Rowan says; We could talk now. Were alone out here. No walls.There are always walls. I say.

And so ends his rush from his greatest act of rebellion. He understands that no matter where he runs or how high he flies, he will always have to come home.

There is no darkness like that of a confined space.

We writers are resilient souls.