Quotes by Sarah Dessen

I would have thought this would make me feel better.. getting to be the one to leave and not the one left behind. But it didnt. Not at all.

The people who know you best can be risker, because the words they say and things they think have the potential to be not only scary but true, as well.

... Everything he feels, he feels strongly. Too strongly, sometimes. I think he freaks people out.

But I knew what it said. That I could be imperfect, but only so much. Human, but only within limits. And honest, to her or to myself, never.

Angers not bad, he said. Its human...

You did listen. He sat back, nodding his head. Okay, then. Now tell me what you really thought.I told you. It was interesting.Interesting, he said, is not a word.Since when?Its a placeholder. Something you use when you dont want to say something else. He leaned a little closer to me. Look, if youre worried about my feelings, dont be. You can say whatever you want. I wont be offended.I did. I liked it.Tell the truth. Say something. Anything. Just spit it out.I— I began, then stopped myself. Maybe it was the fact that he was so clearly on to me. Or my sudden awareness of how rarely I was honest. Either way, I broke. I… I didnt like it, I said.He slapped his leg. I knew it! You know, for someone who lies a lot, youre not very good at it.This was a good thing. Or not? I wasnt sure. Im not a liar, I said.Right. Youre nice, he said.Whats wrong with nice?Nothing. Except it usually involves not telling the truth, he replied. Now. Tell me what you really thought.

Jennifer Anne had prepared some complicated-looking recipe involving chicken breasts stuffed with sweet potatoes topped with a vegetable glaze. They looked perfect, but it was the kind of dish where you just knew someone had to have been pawing at your food for a long while to get it just right, their fingers all in what now you were having to stick in your mouth.

Silence is so freaking loud

But as i lay there, it only seemes like silence filling my ears. And the thing was, it was so freaking loud.

The silence wasnt like the ones Id known lately, though; it wasnt empty so much as chosen. Theres an entirely different feel to quiet when youre with someone else, and at any moment it could be broken. Like the difference between a pause and an ending.

I reached up with my finger and traced the scar over my eyebrow, remembering when that was the greatest hurt Id ever known.

The first thing I did when I got inside was turn on the kitchen light. Then I moved to the table, putting my dads iPod on the speaker dock, and a Bob Dylan song came on, the notes familiar. I went into the living room, hitting the switch there, then down the hallway to my room, where I did the same. It was amazing what a little noise and brightness could do to a house and a life, how much the smallest bit of each could change everything. After all these years of just passing through, I was beginning to finally feel at home.

You could just tell when a person belonged somewhere. That is something you cant fake, no matter how hard you try

What you do in your dreams is never your choice. But it made me happy anyway.

Id made my choice, though, and I couldnt take it back.

There were so many places in my time with Rogerson that I wished I could go back to, hitting the stop button at just one moment to stop everything that came after. I had so many If Onlys, but each place I thought to stop meant missing something that came later. I needed it all, in the end, to make my own story find its finish.

Accepting all the good and bad about someone. Its a great thing to aspire to. The hard part is actually doing it.

Most people put off my mothers erratic behavior to the fact that she was a writer, as if that just explained everything. To me that was just an excuse. I mean, brain surgeons can be crazy too, but no one says thats all right. Fortunately for my mother, I am alone in this opinion.

Sure, it sucked to be lost, but Id long ago realized I preferred it to depending on anyone else to get me where I needed to go. That was the thing about being alone, in theory or in principle. Whatever happened- good, bad, or anywhere in between- it was always, if nothing else, all your own.

He had a nice smile. Seeing it, I felt like I’d won a prize, because he was so sparing with them.