I know that some neurologists think that autistic kids have brain synapses so close together and firing in such quick succession that they cause hyperawareness; that one of the reasons children on the...
I have a sister, so I know-that relationship, it's all about fairness: you want your sibling to have exactly what you have-the same amount of toys, the same number of meatballs on your spaghetti, the...
I had become a bridge between the natural world and the human one. I fit into both places and belonged to neither. Half of my heart lived with the wild wolves, the other half lived with my family.In c...
I got precious little time for you to belong to me. I’m gonna make sure it isn’t any shorter than it has to be.
I don't know what it is about death that makes it so hard. I suppose it's the one-sided communication; the fact that we never get to ask our loved one if she suffered, if she is happy wherever she is...
I don't know the first thing about holding together a family, especially one that resembles an heirloom vase, shattered but glued back together for its beauty, and no one mentions that you can see the...
I don't belong to a religion. Religion's the reason the world's falling apart... That's what religion does. It points a finger. It causes wars. It breaks apart countries. It's a petri dish for stereot...
I don't believe in God. But sitting there, in a room full of those who feel otherwise, I realize that I do believe in people. In their strength to help each other, and to thrive in spite of the odds,...
I could think whatever I wanted to, but realized that any promises I made myself were destined to be broken.
I could not remember my first kiss, but I could have told you Charlotte would be my last.
I close my eyes, rub my thumb against the bridge of my nose to ward off the headache. Well, Rome wasn't built in a day.
I believed the reason there was a God was to prevent such atrocities from happening to the same person twice. But nothing prepared me for this: I have done what I've sworn I could never do; I have bec...
I believe in love. I think it just hits you and pulls the rug out from underneath you and, like a baby, demands your attention every minute of the day.
I believe in Hell...but it's here on earth. He shakes his head. Good people and bad people. As if it were this easy. Everyone is both of these at once.
I also mistakenly believed that the scariest stories came from imagination, not real life.
How does someone go from thinking that if he cannot rescue, he must destroy? And do you blame him, or do you blame the folks who should have told him otherwise?
How could he describe how it felt when she finished his sentences, turned the mug they were sharing so that her mouth landed where his had been? How did he explain the way they could be in a locker ro...
Hope, Patrick knew, was the exact measure of distancebetween himself and the person who’d come for help.
Heroes were ordinary people who knew that even if their own lives were impossibly knotted, they could untangle someone else's. And maybe that one act could lead someone to rescue you right back.
He's too busy living to talk about dying. -Cara