Quotes from David Levithan

Are you a vegetarian?' I ask, based on the evidence in front of me. She nods. 'Why?' 'Because I have this theory that when we die, every animal that we've eaten has a chance at eating us back. So if you're a carnivore and you add up all the animals you've eaten--well, that's a long time in purgatory, being chewed.' 'Really?' She laughs. 'No. I'm just sick of the question. I mean, I'm a vegetarian because I think it's wrong to eat other sentient creatures. And it sucks for the environment.

I have already spent roughly five thousand hours asleep next to you. This has to mean something.

I say good-bye to the part of myself that misses him so much.

It's b******* to think of friendship and romance being different. They're not. They're just variations of the same love. Variatons of the same desire to be close.

When someone breaks up with you, their beauty-- which you took such satisfaction in-- suddenly becomes unfair.

Most of the time when we think we're looking for death, we're really looking for love.

dissonance , n . Nights when I need to sleep and you can't. Days when I want to talk to you and you won't. Hours when every noise you make interferes with my silence. Weeks when there is a buzzing in the air, and we both pretend we don't hear it.

Sometimes desire is air, sometimes desire is liquid. And every now and then, when everything else is air and liquid, desire solidifies, and the body is the magnet that draws its weight.

Every time you love someone, you put not just your faith in them, but your faith in everything to the test.

My pride shut me up, my hurt shut me down, and together they ganged up on my hope and let her get away.

We know that some of you are still scared. We know that some of you are still silent. Just because it's better now doesn't mean that it's always good.

This is the hard part about having best friends that I feel no attachment to -- I don't give them any benefit of the doubt. And being best friends is always about the benefit of the doubt.

If you start the day reading the obituaries, you live your day a little differently.

I kiss her and she finds the light switch and turns it off, and we're just lit in Pepsi-can colors and it's like we've finally found this other kind of conversation, this conversation in gestures and pulls and pushes and breaths and grasps and teases and glimmers and rubs and expectation.

incessant , adj . The doubts. You had to save me from my constant doubts. That deep-seeded feeling that I wasn't good enough for anything I was a fake at my job I wasn't your equal my friends would forget me if I moved away for a month. It wasn't as easy as hearing voices nobody was telling me this. It was just something I knew. Everyone else was playing along but I was sure that one day they would all stop.

For whatever reason, we like to focus on the 2 percent that's different, and most of the conflict in the world comes from that.

I have always been aware of how I break. I know what kind of situations will break me. I know what kind of people will do it. I know how much it will hurt.

If you let the world in, you open yourself up to the world. Even if the world doesn't know that you're there.

It won't be a normal life-I know that. But it will be a life. A life together.

ardent, adj. It was after sex, when there was still heat and mostly breathing, when there was still touch and mostly thought... it was as if the whole world could be reduced to the sound of a single string being played, and the only thing this sound could make me think of was you. Sometimes desire is in the air; sometimes desire is liquid. And every now and then, when everything else is air and liquid, desire solidifies, and the body is the magnet that draws its weight.

All this hoping for something- or someone- that's maybe hopeless. I'm having a hard time processing what I am supposed to believe, or if I'm even supposed to. There is too much information, and I don't like a lot of it.

When you live as I do, you cannot indulge in jealousy. If you do, it will rip you apart.

Yesterday is another world. I want to go back there.

If there wasn't a word for it, would we realize our masochism as much?