Quotes from David Levithan

Quería que el amor lo conquistase todo. Pero el amor no puede conquistarlo todo por si solo. Ha de confiar en que seamos nosotros quienes conquistamos por él.

The important thing to remember is that I am not alone. On days when it's hard, I remember I am not alone. On days when it's easy, I remember I am not alone. That is what gets me through. Every day, it gets me through.

I no longer think she's just being nice. She's being kind. Which is much more a sign of character than mere niceness. Kindness connects to who you are, while niceness connects to how you want to be seen.

In an age of guidebooks, websites, and radio waves, discovery has nearly become a lost feeling. If anything, it is now a matter of expectations to surpass—rarely a matter of unexpected wonderment. It is unusual to find a situation that appears without word, or a place that was not known to be on the road.

It was an exquisite irony: Just when we stopped wanting to kill ourselves, we started to die. Just when we were feeling strength, it was taken from us.

Todas las personas somos una posibilidad. Los románticos empedernidos son quienes más cuenta se dan de ello; pero incluso para los demás, la única manera de seguir adelante es ver a cada persona como una posibilidad

right at this moment, I cannot imagine it being any worse right here, I have been turned into nothing right now, I am negated

She's being kind. Which is much more a sign of character than mere niceness. Kindness connects to who you are, while niceness connects to how you want to be seen.

She's holding it together, too, and I want to tell her she doesn't have to do that for me, because I might not be able to do it or her. I can tell she's also trying not to look back, but she does it - she looks over her shoulder - and the tears won't leave her eyes.

We are not just kissing with our whole bodies, but with something that is bigger than our bodies, that is who we are and who we will be. We are kissing from a deeper part of our selves, and we are finding a deeper part of each other. It feels like electricity hitting water, fire reaching paper, the brightest light finding our eyes.

Do you wonder why we wander?" Cal had asked. It was the night of the first snow; you could hear the branches bending and the icicles falling outside the window, beyond the wall. They were warmth together. They were hot breath and blankets and wrapping themselves close. And Elijah had thought, I wonder why I never kiss you. I wonder what would happen. But he didn't say anything out loud.

If you want to be loved,be a loveable. It's a good place to start.

The conclusion I reach: I don't like my body very much, but I'm not sure I'd like anyone else's body any better. They're all strange when you look at them for too long.

Maybe we're the pieces,' 'What?' 'Maybe that's it. With what you were talking about before. The world being broken. Maybe it isn't that we're supposed to find the pieces and put them back together. Maybe we're the pieces. Maybe, what we're supposed to do is come together. That's how we stop the breaking.' Tikkun olam.

But do you know what happens to girls who love lost boys? They become lost themselves.

Sinto uma ternura por essas conversas noturnas e vulneráveis, pelo modo com que as palavras assumem uma forma diferente no ar quando não há luz no quarto. Penso nas raras noites de sorte quando terminei o dia na casa de um amigo ou dividindo o quarto com um irmão ou amigo o qual gostava de verdade. Essas conversas me faziam acreditar que eu podia dizer qualquer coisa, mesmo quando estava escondendo tanto

i said 'i don't know' because that had become my answer to everything.

who was it who promised that if you got to a certain point you would no longer be?

She said moments like this were like waking up in the middle of the night: You're scared, you're disoriented, and you're completely convinced you're right. But then you stay awake a little longer and you realize things aren't as fearful as they seem." Excerpt From: David Levithan. "The Lover's Dictionary." iBooks.

She is sitting right next to me. I want to run my finger along her arm. I want to kiss her neck. I want to whisper the truth in her ear. But instead I watch as she conjugates verbs. I listen as the air is filled with a foreign language, spoken in haphazard bursts. I try to sketch her in my notebook, but I am not an artist, and all that comes out are the wrong shapes, the wrong lines. I cannot hold onto anything that's her.

I can see how siblings could be helpful in life—someone to share family secrets with, someone of your own generation who knows if your memories are right or not, someone who sees you at eight and eighteen and forty-eight all at once, and doesn't mind.

The past and future are what's complicated. It's the present that's simple. And that simplicity is the sensation of it being just her and me.

Love is so painful, how could you ever with it on anybody?

How much of my body is really me? My face is me, for sure. Anyone who looked at my face would know it was me. (...) But after that? If I showed myself a picture of myself from the shoulders down, would I be sure it was me? (...) I close my eyes and ask myself what my feet look like. I only kind of know. (...) I let it define me, but I can't even define it.