Quotes About Acceptance

Something that's bigger than you, and something that's kind and forgiving, I'd heard one of the meeting leaders say. That's all your Higher Power has to be.

She just wants you to be able to be whoever you want to be, and love whoever you want to love.

Did any love ever feel as sweet as first love? Were we all just damaged goods now, battered cans in the grocery store sale bin, day old bread, marked down at the registered, hoping that someone would look past the obvious flaws and love us enough to take us home?

You have to let people be who they want," Terry said. "Even if it's not what you want them to be.

È un libro sull'amore capace di trascendere l'aspetto fisico, su come la bellezza sia un confine arbitrario e facile da superare, su come due persone possono entrare in sintonia nonostante le differenze fisiche, su come possono innamorarsi malgrado il loro aspetto esteriore li separi dal resto del mondo.

She hates me, Jo would think, but even that didn't hurt so much, because her father loved her, and she could carry his love, like a glowing coal in the center of her chest, feeling its warmth even in the face of her mother's fury.

she married a man, she could let him plan, let him push, let him maneuver; and the world they inhabited would welcome them. They would always have a place. It would be easy, and Jo was so tired.

A body was just a body, just a vessel for her soul, and

People don't like to see things that aren't perfect. It reminds them of what could go wrong in their own lives, I guess.

I knew that it was no fault of ours. We weren't to blame, I thought to myself. I could let it go; I could set the burden down, I could be free. Except, of course, that knowing something in your head is different than feeling it in your heart.

Things happen, and you can't make them un-happen. You don't get do-overs, you can't roll back the clock, and the only thing you can change, and the only thing that does any good to worry about, is how you let them affect you.

First of all, it's life. You don't win.

little victory over the voice that had lived in my head since I was six years old, telling me I was fat, disgusting, unworthy of love, unworthy of friendship, unworthy of existing in public, even of walking outside; that a girl who looked like me did not deserve to have fun.

Jennifer Weiner

I'd lost . . . ten pounds? Twelve? Enough to make me believe that if I just kept at it I could lose the weight, the percentage of myself, that would finally make my body acceptable. Enough to make me believe that a man could like me, could look past my current incarnation and see the beauty that would be revealed when I dropped another thirty pounds.

Jennifer Weiner

I thought, not for the first time, that maybe it would have been better if he'd just died, a thunderclap heart attack, an artery bursting in his brain, a peaceful exit in the middle of the night, in his own bed, after his favorite meal, with my mom beside him. We'd have mourned, then moved on. This was a slow-motion catastrophe, death by a thousand cuts.

And she's got blue hair, and old-lady clothes. It's fine. She's one hundred percent herself. And she wouldn't be that strong, she wouldn't have the courage of her convictions, if she didn't have a mom like you.

Diana could have spent the rest of her life content, with just those episodes, and those questions, to remind her of what she'd survived and what she'd done. She could have lived like Eve in the garden, ignoring the snake, avoiding the apple tree. And then, one day, the apple tree found her.

She'd learned that his wife's real name was not Daisy. It was Diana, and, somehow, that unsettled her almost as badly as finding the picture had. It made her think that she was the rough-draft Diana, the one who got crumpled up and tossed in the trash, while his wife was the final version, the one who was beloved, cherished, marriage material.

nodded. I did know. Once I'd started searching out clothes that fit and looked good on the body I had instead of the one that I wanted, I had discovered exactly the feeling Leela Thakoon was talking about.

This wasn't the life she signed up for.

schools—a place to deposit a wayward son

Jennifer Weiner