Quotes from Sarah Dessen

Honesty in principle was one thing. In someone's face, it was another.

Everything looks different when you're older, not staring up at the world but down upon it.

Being nice wasn't as easy as it seemed especially when the rest of the world could be so mean

Impulsiveness can be charming but deliberation can have an appeal, as well.

Life isn't fair, Owen told her. Get used to it.

So much had happened that morning. Yet it was this image, this moment, that i kept going back to hours later, after we'd made it safely to the walkway and gone our separate ways to classes. How it felt to have the world moving beneath me, a hand gripping mine, knowing if i fell, at least i wouldn't do it alone.

But she wouldn't. I knew that already. My mother and I had an understanding: we worked together to be as much in control of our shared world as possible. I was suposed to be her other half, carrying my share of the weight. In the last few weeks, I'd tried to shed it, and doing so sent everything off kilter. So of course she would pull me tighter, keeping me in my place, because doing so meant she would always be sure, somehow, of her own.

It was like those songs I'd heard as a child, each so familiar, and all mine. When i got older and realized the words were sad, the stories tragic, it didn't make me love them any less. By then they were already part of me, woven into my conciousness & memory

It's harder that in looks, I told him when I finally got back in the car. Most things are

Best Friends. And I thought of what she had done all the millions of times I cried to her, collapsing at even the slightest wounding of my heart or pride. So I reached over and pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her, and held my best friend close, returning so many favors all at once....

Once, I was easy. Now, I was choosy. See? Big difference.

Times like this it did seem real I was leaving, and even more that my family, and this life, would go on without me. And again I felt that emptiness rise up, but pushed it away. Still, I lingered there, in the doorway, memorizing the noise. The moment. Tucking it away out of sight, to be remembered when I needed it most.

I felt like I'd been swimming so hard, and the water growing warmer and warmer the closer I got to the top. I wasn't there yet, but now I could see the surface, rippling just beyond my fingers.

You get what you give, but also what you're willing to take.

I'd learn that it's not just where you go, but how you choose to get there. So I pulled that sign off the green bike - ENJOY YOUR RIDE! - and went inside to take the first step toward doing just that.

I didn't trot my pain out to show around. I kept it better hidden than anyone. I did.

You have to admit, it's kind of impressive.... Total commitment. You know, the idea of discovering something that, for all intents and purposes, goes against your abilities, and yet still deciding to do it anyway. That takes guts, you know?

I wanted to tell him so. Find the right words, string them together in the ideal way, knowing that here they would have the best chance of sounding perfect.

I would miss Colby, but it wasn't going anywhere. All the more reason why I should.

So I left him there alone to watch history repeat the same events retold again and again on his own.

Happy, normal lives going on in happy, normal ways, in a works that was anything but. Once you realize this, experienced something that made it crystal clear, you couldn't forget it. Like a face. Or a name. However you learn that truth, once it's with you, it never really goes away.

Writing a novel is like childbirth: once you realize how awful it really is, you never want to do it again.

Shit, Delia said. I mean, shoot. No, actually, I mean shit. I really do.

Events conspired to bring you back to where you'd been. It was what you did then that made all the difference: it was all about potential.