Quotes About Communication

You could care enough to keep a secret, but you could care enough to tell one, too.

But an apology too — you think you're giving something, but you're not. You're really asking for something. You're asking for forgiveness, you're asking for the other injured person to make it okay for you. Apologies were harder work for the person getting one than the person giving one.

No, Mom. I said fine." "It's just your tone." Ah, yes- the tone. The nasty traitor.

I wondered if parents had an easier time with the secrets their children kept than children did with the secrets of their parents. A parent's secrets seemed like some sort of betrayal, where my own just seemed like a fact of life and growing up and away. I was supposed to be independent, but he was supposed to be available. Him having his own life seemed selfish, where me having my own was the right order of things.

In the two months I had also dated Justin Fellowes, this guy in my Spanish class, though after three weeks we decided we should "see other people," which in my case was a joke, but it beat hearing him remark on everything I ate. 'I don't know why girls are always on a diet,' he'd say when I ordered a Diet Coke, and 'You should watch your starch intake' when I had a muffin.

You look so good," I say, and s***! Oh god, that's not what I meant. S***! "It looks good. The book.

Because words were hills and valleys you traveled, so lovely sometimes that they hurt your eyes.

Accents are funny in that they have this odd draw for us, yet we forget we have one, too. No one is without an accent, but the one you've got seems like oatmeal to their caviar.

Hannah and Kayla are talking without saying anything. Their conversation goes like this: Hannah: Uh-huh. Kayla: It was like, ugh! Hannah: I know. Kayla: Shit. Come on! Hannah: Well, you know, whatever. Kayla: I guess, but still. Hannah: Yeah. Kayla: You know? Hannah: Yeah.

We forget that just because something is honest it is not necessary the truth.

This is not to say I don't feel my own grief, which can hit powerfully at unexpected times. It's just that the telling does not automatically bring on my own upset, as people assume. I deal more with their reaction than they do with mine, and so you have to choose your timing.

I know parental embarrassment usually stops somewhere at fifteen, but he just kept on giving me good reasons.

I ignore the message from Jenna, who wants to talk about Kayla and what a bitch she is. I think she actually said "witch" in the voicemail, but if that's what she means, I don't see what a difference the vocabulary makes

She doesn't bother to tell him that he should not be sorry, that he is not responsible for any of those things. She doesn't bother because they are both chronic apologizers, and chronic apologizers know that sorry is also just sorrow for the general state of the world.

I kept trying to talk myself out of my second thoughts when they were trying to help me. My advice? When it comes to relationships, second thoughts should be promoted.

Doubt in your voice is an open door people will shove right through.

I guess I was inching and crawling my way toward Elizabeth Bennett's words about unconditional love. That it was a dangerous thing without heavy doses of mutual respect.

One thing you can say about daughters and mothers—like it or not, they know the truth about each other.

I'm fine." Oh, how we love and overuse fine, our all-purpose little evasion. Fine means not fine. Fine means Pity me. Fine means Don't ask.

Apologies were harder for the person getting one than the person giving one.

It's both harder and easier without words.

Words were hills and valleys you traveled, so lovely sometimes that they hurt your eyes.

Her look was easy to read—she couldn't understand, we'd always been able to talk, she was hurt. Mothers can give all of that to you in one brief look.

Hey," I say back. It's a Hey of Almost Forgiveness. "I've got something I want to show you. Will you come somewhere with me?" Oh, all right. As long as it's anywhere. "Okay.