Ellen Hopkins Quotes - Page 11

But hey, I'm not exactly sold on the idea that love is, in fact, real. Will it find me one day, overtake me, infiltrate my life like sunlight snakes through the cold of morning? Can love thaw me? will it ever?

I mean, who wants to trudge through life, doing everything just right? Taking no chances means wasting your dreams.

My happiest memories have no place in the past; they are those I have yet to create.

Puzzle pieces don't always connect do they?

Love is like that. I could crush her beneath the weight of confession.

Sad, that lives can be shattered, into so many pieces that they can never be put back together, the the relentless force of love. Irreparable.

So You Want to Know All about her. Who she really is. (Was?) Why she swerved off the high road. Hard left to nowhere, recklessly indifferent to me. Hunter Seth Haskins, her firstborn son. I've been chocking that down for nineteen years. Why did she go on her mindless way, leaving me spinning in a whirlwind of her dust?

Would I ever find forever love? Do I really want to, when forever was a word without meaning?

Why doesn't love come with an owner's manual?

Certain of misfire, my heart threatens to stop.

Always before, I just said no, left it solidly there. I waver now. I want to share everything with him. Want to know what he knows, feel what he feels, share the same space he's in.

My body Healed quickly. But the wound to my psyche was deep. Wide. First aid, too little, too late, left me hemorrhaging inside, the blood unstaunched by psychological bandage or love's healing magic. Eventually it scabbed over, a thick, ugly welt of memory. I work to conceal it, but no matter how hard I try, once in a while something makes me pick at it until the scarring bleeds. In my arms, Ashante cries, innocence ripped apart by circumstance. Bloodied by inhuman will. Time will prove a tourniquet. But she will always be at risk of infection. (124)

Six months since we met up again we are inseparable, an intricate weave. No longer do I believe this is a temporary fling. More like total commitment. More like I have walked down the aisle, holding hands with the monster.

Red and raw like my brain, unable to shut down, thoughts crashing like electrons orbiting a nucleus of deuling emotions.

Red and raw like my heart, pried from your's, the two beating, no longer together, but a thousand miles between them when only yesterday they thumped in unison.

With you, I am Eve. And you are my beautiful Adam. Let's run away, find our garden, live there together, happy. Naked.

Your hurt swallows ine, like space swallows time, and the two intertwine. We tangle together.

Hot flush, raging bluch. Ice flash, instant crash.

Because to tell you the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape

Real love finds you once, if you're lucky.

life before the monster

My priest tells me i should not date a mormon but im just too in love with you that i'm willing to take risks

Our meeting, touching, accidentally connecting immediately, interwoven hand-in-hand, heart-to-heart.

Detailed descriptions, abstract ambitions, relevant observations, your's and mine.

The problem with being grounded is it gives you a whole lot of unavoidable time to think. NOt even pulling weeds can take away your ability to plot all the varied and wonderful things you might do to get even, or at least to make up, just get a smidgen for time lost to TV and yard work and house cleaning.