Making Faces

If God made all our faces, did he laugh when he made me? Does he make the legs that cannot walk and eyes that cannot see? Does he curl the hair upon my head 'til it rebels in wild defiance? Does he close the ears of a deaf man to make him more reliant? Is the way I look a coincidence or just a twist of fate? If he made me this way, is it okay, to blame him for the things I hate? For the flaws that seem to worsen every time I see a mirror,For the ugliness I see in me, for the loathing and the fear. Does he sculpt us for his pleasure, for a reason I can't see? If God makes all our faces, did he laugh when he made me?

Everybody is a main character to someone...

True beauty, the kind that doesn't fade or wash off, takes time. It takes incredible endurance. It is the slow drip that creates the stalactite, the shaking of the Earth that creates mountains, the constant pounding of the waves that breaks up the rocks and smooths the rough edges. And from the violence, the furor, the raging of the winds, the roaring of the waters, something better emerges, something that would have otherwise never existed. And so we endure. We have faith that there is purpose. We hope for things we can't see. We believe there are lessons in loss, power in love, and that we have within us the potential for a beauty so magnificent, our bodies can't contain it.

I wrote your name across my heart So I would not forget. The way I felt when you were born Before we'd even met I wrote your name across my heart So your heart beats with mine And when I miss you most I trace Each loop and every line I wrote your name across my heart, So we could be together So I could hold you close to me And keep you there forever.

Books allow you to be whoever you want to be, to escape yourself for a while.

I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, and when you get tired of looking at me, I promise I’ll sing.

You loved ferris wheels more than roller coasters because life shouldn’t be lived at full speed, but in anticipation and appreciation.

Death is easy. Living is the hard part.

I would rather be lost with you than alone without you.

It's hard to come to terms with the fact that you aren't going to be loved the way you want to be loved.

Sometimes a beautiful face is false advertising.

There isn't heartache if there hasn't been joy. I wouldn't feel loss if there hadn't been love.

There are times when you just need to acknowledge the shit … You just need to acknowledge it. Face the shit … Accept the truth in it. Own it, wallow in it, become one with the shit.

I've been in love with you since you helped me bury that spider in my garden, and you sang with me like we were singing “Amazing Grace” instead of “The Itsy, Bitsy Spider.” I've loved you since you quoted Hamlet like you understood him, since you said you loved ferris wheels more than roller coasters because life shouldn't be lived at full speed, but in anticipation and appreciation. I read and re-read your letters to Rita because I felt like you'd opened up a little window into your soul, and the light was pouring out with every word. They weren't even for me, but it didn't matter. I loved every word, every thought, and I loved you . . . so much.

Nobody or Nowhere? Fern: I'd rather be nobody at home than somebody somewhere else. Ambrose: I'd rather be nowhere. Being nobody when you're expected to be somebody gets old. Fern: How would you know? Have you been nobody? Ambrose: Everybody who is somebody becomes nobody the moment they fail.

I don't think we get answers to every question. We don't get all the whys. But I think when we look back to the end of our lives, if we do the best we can, and we will see that the things we begged God to take from us, the things we cursed him for, the things that made us turn our backs on him, are the things that were the biggest blessings, the biggest opportunities for growth.

She decided she would just be a fairy because she liked the option of flying without the responsibility of saving the world.

There's a lot I don't understand... but not understanding is better than not believing

Because terrible things happen to everyone, Brosey. We're all just so caught up in our own crap that we don't see the shit everyone else is wading through

I promised myself that if you came home I wouldn’t be afraid to tell you how I felt. But I’m still afraid. Because I can’t make you love me back.

Maybe we just don't recognize the blessings that come as a result of terrible things

Do you think there’s any way someone like Ambrose could fall in love with someone like me?”... “Only if he’s lucky.” “Oh, Bailey.” Fern shook her head, but loved him for saying it…and even more for meaning it.

The real thing, when done right, is always better than a daydream.

This last year I've felt like one of those snowflakes we used to make in school. The ones where you fold the paper a certain way and then keep cutting and cutting until the paper is shredded. That's what I look like, a paper snowflake. And each hole has a name. And nobody, not you, not me, can fill the holes that someone else has left. All we can do is keep each other from falling in the holes and never coming out again.

I want your body. I want your mouth. I want your red hair in my hands. I want your laugh and your funny faces. I want your friendship and your inspirational thoughts. I want Shakespeare and Amber Rose novels ... And I want you to come with me when I go.

Sometimes beauty, or lack thereof, gets in the way of really knowing someone

Everybody who is somebody becomes nobody the moment they fail.

Shakespeare said, 'the robbed that smiles steals something from the thief.

Scripture comforts me, and romance novels give me hope." "Oh yeah? Hope for what?" "Hope that I'll be doing more than quoting scripture with Ambrose Young in the very near future".