Panic

It was so strange, the way that life moved forward: the twists and the dead ends, the sudden opportunities. She supposed if you could predict or foresee everything that was going to happen, you’d lose the motivation to go through it all. The promise was always in the possibility.

She knew, now, that there was always light—beyond the dark, and the fear, out of the depths; there was sun to reach for, and air and space and freedom. There was always a way up, and out, and no need to be afraid.

She thought all you needed to do - all any of them needed - was to get out. But maybe you carried your demons with you everywhere, the way you carried your shadow.

She knew that this day, this feeling, couldn't last forever. Everything passed; that was partly why it was so beautiful. Things would get difficult again. But that was okay too. The bravery was in moving forward, no matter what.

How do I know I can trust you?' she said finally. 'That's the thing about trust.' He crunched an ice cube between his teeth. 'You don't know.

when you love someone, when you care for someone, you have to do it through the good and the bad. Not just when you’re happy and it’s easy.

No one had ever told her this basic fact: not everyone got to be loved.

The rules of Panic are simple. Anyone can enter. But only one person will win.

This was what true fear was--that you could never know other people, not completely. That you were always just guessing blind.

But maybe you carried your demons with you everywhere, the way you carried your shadow.

The Bravery was in moving forward, no matter what. Someday, she might be called on to jump again. And she would do it. She knew, now, that there was always light--beyond the dark, and the dear, out of the depths; there was sun to reach for, and air and space and freedom. There was always a way up, and out, and no need to be afraid.

No one should be allowed to be happy when you were so miserable – especially not your best friends. It should be a law.

But all you see is the crap. So you don't have to believe in anything. So you'll have an excuse to fail.

Funny how people could be around you for so many years, and be so off the mark.

I'm scared all the time," she whispered. "You'd be an idiot if you weren't," Anne said. "And you wouldn't be brave either.

She felt as though, just for a second, she had understood something vastly important, had had a glimpse of it: love, pure and simple and undemanding.

If people changed, it meant that she was allowed to change too. She could be different. She could be happier.

He sprayed on a bit of this man’s body-spray thing his mom had gotten for free at Walmart, feeling like a douche, but thinking it was better to feel like a douche than to smell like an asshole.

You want everything to be shitty... So you have an excuse to fail.

she might be dying. The idea pleased her.

You know what your problem is? You want everything to be shitty. You have a sister who loves you. Friends who love you. I love you, Heather.

It was so strange, the way that life moved forward: the twists and the dead ends, the sudden opportunities. The promise was always in the possibility.

He wasn't afraid. He just didn't care. And that was very, very different.

She knew, now, that there was always light – beyond the dark, and the fear, out of the depths; there was sun to reach for, and air and space and freedom.

It was the final, explosive demonstration of summer, the line in the sand, a desperate attempt to hold fall forever at bay. But autumn nibbled the blue sky with its teeth, tore off chunks of the sun, smudged out that heavy veil of meat-smelling smoke.

Their eyes were flat, incurious, and old- impossibly old, as though instead of looking forward, their eyes saw back to a distant past.

Maybe you carried your demons with you everywhere, the way you carried your shadow.

This was what true fear was- that you could never know other people, not completely.

They had their own language, their own jokes. They were constantly touching each other too – pushing and shoving, pinching and hugging, like kids flirting on a playground.