It’s not my fault I can’t be like you, okay? I don’t get up in the morning thinking the world is one big, shiny, happy place, okay? That’s just not how I work. I don’t...

Find the things that matter, and hold on to them, and fight for them, and refuse to let them go.

It was all very strange, Mr. Gray thought, as he wiped the coffee canister clean with a sponge. Very, very mysterious. You were born; you lived a whole life; and at the end, you wound...

Welcome to the free world. We give people the power to choose. They can even choose the wrong thing. Beautiful, isn’t it?

People need other people to feel things for them,” she said. “It gets lonely to feel things all by yourself.

Because I think you’re right. You can make a difference.” He told me experiences were kind of like fate, and fate usually came in the form of a test. He told me fate liked to...

You can’t go home again” ─ isn’t necessarily that places change but people do.

Alex loved books. He was the one who first introduced me to poetry. That’s another reason I can’t read anymore.

He has left nothing except for a note, which I find neatly folded under one of my sneakers.The Story of Solomon is the only way I know how to explain.And then, in smaller letters:Forgive me.

I used to think that’s what love was: knowing someone so well he was like a part of you.

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...

Poetry isn’t like any writing I’ve ever heard before. I don’t understand all of it, just bits of images, sentences that appear half-finished, all fluttering together like brightly colored ribbons in the wind.

That’s when I realized that certain moments go on forever. Even after they’re over they still go on, even after you’re dead and buried, those moments are lasting still, backward and forward, on into infinity....

Sometimes I feel like if you just watch things, just sit still and let the world exist in front of you – sometimes I swear that just for a second time freezes and the world...

Not gray, exactly. Right before the sun rises there’s a moment when the whole sky goes this pale nothing color-not really gray but sort of, or sort of white, and I’ve always really liked it...

Amazingly, I can still see the stars: whole galaxies blooming from nothing – pink and purple suns, vast silver oceans, a thousand white moons.

En mi mente, yo estaba reviviendo toda mi vida de nuevo – lentamente, tomando mi tiempo. Retrasándolo. Porque sabía que, tarde o temprano, llegaría a ella.Y entonces… Bueno, ya había muerto una vez. No podría...

I guess we all have some of these – memories like artillery shells, fired at close range.

The hours here are flat and round, disks of gray layered one on top of the other…they move slowly, at a grind, until it seems as though they are not moving at all. They are...

I love you. Remember. They cannot take it

He is my world and my world is him and without him there is no world.

Fear. Blame. Don’t forget. Mom. I love you.-Lauren Oliver, Delerium

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

I’m dead, but I can’t stop living.

Each step is more difficult than the last; the heaviness fills me and turns my limbs to stone.You must hurt or be hurt.

But I am terrified by what I want: for him, and worst of all, from him. Because I do want. I’m not even sure what, exactly, but the want is there, just like the hate...

I was thinking of Lena. Of course. I was always thinking of Lena.

And suddenly I am blindingly angry at Raven–for her lectures, and her stubbornness, and for thinking that the way that you help people is by driving them against a wall, by beating them down until...

I told you,” he whispers back. I can feel his breath just tickling the space behind my ear, making my hair prick up on my neck. “I like you.””You don’t know me,” I say quickly.”I...

Of all the miracles Po had seen in the time and space of its death, Po thought this–the absorption of another, the carrying of it–was the most bewildering and remarkable of all. Whenever Bundle separated...

Freedom is exhausting.

It was unfair that people could pretend to be one thing when they were really something else. That they would get you on their side and then do nothing but fail, and fail, and fail...

You broke my heart.I fell for you and you broke my heart.Period, done, end of story.

He pauses for only a fraction of a second. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to mine, and the whole world powers off, the moon and the rain and the sky and the...

I know the rules. I’ve been living here longer than you have.”He cracks a smile then. He nudges me back. “Hardly.””Born and raised. You’re a transplant.” I nudge him again, a little harder, and he...

Alex.

This is what happens when you try to help people. You get screwed.

There are so many things I want to tell her, so many things she doesn’t know; like how I remember when she first came home from the hospital, a big pink blob with a perma-smile,...

And it’s the funniest thing: as soon as I see it, the whistling in my ears stops and the feeling of terror drains away, and I realize this whole time I haven’t been falling at...

That’s a funny thing: you think, when awful things happen, everything else just stops, like you would forget to pee and eat and get thirsty, but it’s not really true. It’s like you and your...

The world has nothing to offer me, no single shred of interest. I’m a woman trapped on a balcony, watching a passing parade, a blur of noise and motion that eventually turns to a single...

I keep having the urge to cross my hands over my chest, to cover up my breasts, to hide. I’m suddenly aware of how pale I look in the sunshine, and how many moles I...

Chance. Stupid, dumb, blind chance. Just a part of the strange mechanism of the world, with its fits and coughs and starts and random collisions.

Déjame decirte algo sobre morir: no es tan malo como dicen. Es traer de vuelta a la vida partes que hieren.

Time waits for no man, but progress waits for man to inact it.

Everyone just wasting time because they have so much of it to waste, minutes slipping by on who’s with who and did you hear.

I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.

I’d rather die on my own terms than live on theirs. I’d rather die loving Alex than live without him.

Once you let in the word, once you allow it to take root, it will spread like a mold through all of your corners and dark spaces— and with it, the questions, the shivery, splintered...

People are stubborn and stupid. They’re irrational. they’re destructive. that’s the point, isn’t it? That’s the whole reason for the cure. People will no longer destroy their own lives. They won’t be capable of it.