“Girls like you can't understand," Julia said, and it was true. Ellie had been popular. She didn't know that some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime.”
“It was the Magic Hour, the moment in time when every leaf and blade of grass seemed to separate, when sunlight, burnished by the rain and softened by the coming night, gave the world an impossibly beautiful glow.”
“Lately he'd been seen going out less and less, becoming that strangest of animals in a small town: a loner.”
“She didn't know that some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime.”
“Alice started to cry. It came with no sound, no shuddering, no childlike hysterics, just a soul-deep release that turned into moisture and dripped down her puffy pink cheeks. She touched her tears, frowning. Then she looked up at Julia and whimpered two words before she fell asleep. ‘Real hurts.’”
“Love rips the shit out of you and puts you back together like a broken toy, with all kinds of cracks and edges. It's not about the falling in love. It's about the landing, the staying where you said you'd be and working to keep the love strong.”
“Rain Valley newcomers pretty much fell into two groups: people running away from something and people running away from everything.”
“As she neared her destination, she took her glasses off. She hadn't come to the point where she trusted the world as seen through a lens.”
“hidden from her. Still, the air is lighted and bright.”
“Love rips the shit out of you and puts you back together like a broken toy, with all kinds of cracks and jagged edges. It’s not about the falling in love. It’s about the landing,”
“One of the fundamental truths of psychiatry was that sometimes you had to leave a patient who needed you. She”
“Girls like you can’t understand,” Julia said, and it was true. Ellie had been popular. She didn’t know that some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime. The”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.” “Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit. “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. —The Velveteen Rabbit Margery Williams”
“No platitudes, Dr. Cerrasin? No ‘God doesn’t give you more than you can bear’ speech?” “Call me Max. Please.” He looked at her. “And sometimes God breaks your fucking back.” It”
“I don't know how romantic I am, but I only know one way to love...All the way. When I love, I risk my heart. All or nothing.”
“What did she wish? She didn't know. When she thought about it, that was the problem with her life, now and always, she'd never known what to wish for until it was too late.”
“Lost is lost; it's when you want someone to hold you but there is no one who can. Lost is alone, even when people are all around you.”
“Sometimes a mood changes on its own... Sometimes it needs a shove.”
“Yesterday I was worried about a lot of things. Today I know what matters.”
“But then she remembered something else, just a flash: looking up at Damon’s face in the woods and feeling such—such excitement, such affinity with him. As if he understood the flame that burned inside her as nobody else ever could. As if together they could do anything they liked, conquer the world or destroy it; as if they were better than anyone else who had ever lived.
I was out of my mind, irrational, she told herself, but that little flash of memory wouldn’t go away.
And then she remembered something else: how Damon had acted later that night, how he’d kept her safe, even been gentle with her.
Stefan was looking at her, and his expression had changed from belligerence to bitter anger and fear. Part of her wanted to reassure him completely, to throw her arms around him and tell him that she was his and always would be and that nothing else mattered. Not the town, not Damon, not anything.
But she wasn’t doing it.”
“And when Elmer was about to slip out to the kitchen with her to make lemonade, Benham held him by demanding, 'What do you think of John Wesley's doctrine of perfection?'
'Oh, it's absolutely sound and proven,' admitted Elmer, wondering what the devil Mr. Wesley's doctrine of perfection might be.”
“No one has free will until they are an adult, and by then the choices that were made for them, have already set them on a course that gives limited freedom in the choices to be made.”
“Stories moved Kelsea most, stories of things that never were, stories that transported her beyond the changeless world of the cottage.”
“It's not the game, Zee. It's the fame. Everyone wants to be affiliated with a winner.”
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