We were lying on the blanket in the backyard of 37 Brooks, like we always did that summer. Lena was on her side, cheek resting on her hand, hair loose. Beautiful.
Lauren OliverTags: alex
This was my secret: she was the one who saved me.
Lauren OliverTags: alex
I was thinking of Lena. Of course. I was always thinking of Lena.
Lauren OliverTags: alex
In my mind, I was reliving my whole life again-slowly, taking my time. Delaying.
Because I knew, sooner or later, I'd get to her.
And then...Well, I'd already died once. I couldn't live through it again.
Tags: alex
Love grew inside me like a delicious secret.
Lauren OliverFor the first time it occurs to me that this, really, might have been the point of the walls and borders, the procedure and the lies: a fist squeezing tighter and tighter. It is a beautiful world for the people who get to play the fist.
Lauren Oliver-Todo el mundo está dormido. Llevan años dormidos. Tu parecias... despierta - susurra. Cierra los ojos, los vuelve a abrir-. Estoy harto de dormir.
Lauren OliverI'd never undetstood how Hana Could lie so often and easily. But just like anyhting else, lying becomes easier the more you do it.
Lauren OliverAnd then we're kissing. His lips are soft and leave mine tingling. I close my eyes, and in the darkness behind them I see beautiful blooming things, flowers spinning like snowflakes, and hummingbirds beating the same rhythm as my heart. I'm gone, lost, floating away into nothingness like I am in my dream, but this time it's a good feeling - like soaring, like being totally free. His other hand pushes my hair from my face, and I can feel the impression of his fingers everywhere that they touch, and I think of stars streaking through the sky and leaving burning trails behind them, and in that moment - however long it lasts, seconds, minutes, days - while he's saying my name into my mouth and I"m breathing into him, I realize this, right here, is the first and only time I've ever been kissed.
Lauren OliverI'm not scared, if that's what you're wondering. The moment of death is full of sound and warmth and light shooting away, arcing up and up and up, and if singing were a feeling it would be this, this light, this lifting, like laughing...
The rest you have to find out for yourself.
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