Over the years Breece had lectured that truth was liquid. That it evaporated in the heat of passion, froze in the cold of fear, and bent itself around virginous, unpurposeful fibs. It could churn and pull you under, drown you in itself, or let you ride upon it like a surf. But truth was always relfective. It showed blackheads and blemishes, fat rolls and sags, scabs and scars. Truth was fearful, angry and dangerous, and that was why so many people did their utmost to avoid it. Brandon Shire
It took me years to figure out that upset was upset, and tumultuousness was not the same thing as passion. Love isn't drama.
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Deb Caletti
I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you go. It’s okay if you have to leave us. It’s okay if you want to stop fighting.
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Gayle Forman
I'd heard of Evergreen Care Center before. Cass and I had always made fun of the stupid ads they ran on TV, featuring some dragged-out woman with a limp perm and big, painted-on circles under her eyes, downing vodka and sobbing uncontrollably. "We can't heal...
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Sarah Dessen
Rogerson, " I asked him sweetly as we sat watching a video in the pool house, "where would I find the pelagic zone?"" In the open sea, " he said. "Now shut up and eat your Junior Mints.
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Sarah Dessen
Your mother won a special reward, " she told me, "because everyone had a head in her pictures. We all applauded.
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Sarah Dessen
More Quotes By Brandon Shire
Even now I can feel the heat from your palm as you cupped the back of my head and pulled my lips those last few inches, how you opened your body and begged me with your soul.
Don’t even talk to me about being a mother. You were never a mother! Just the psychotic twat I lived with for the first fourteen years.
Over the years Breece had lectured that truth was liquid. That it evaporated in the heat of passion, froze in the cold of fear, and bent itself around virginous, unpurposeful fibs. It could churn and pull you under, drown you in itself, or let you...
The desperate resilience, the annoyed flamboyance;his personable passivity and his phobic aggressiveness; all trapped in the clever wrinkles of his fingers, the hard unsociable cast of his knuckles, the safe hopelessness of the pads.
