And when it started to get dark you pointed to the sky, and told me there was a star for every thing you loved about me.
Lauren OliverThe last thing I need is to morph into one of those people who's always wearing black and doodling guns and bombs on her notebook.
Lauren OliverIt's a bummer in some ways, since she never surprises me by making up my sheets anymore, or leaving folded laundry or a new sundress on my bed like she did when I was in middle school. But at least I know she's not rooting through my drawers while I'm at school, looking for drugs or sex toys or whatever.
Lauren OliverHe 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.
Mots clés alex lena-holloway stories-of-the-book-of-shhh
I remember Lena's expression when he knocked on the door; and how Alex had looked at her when she finally let him into the storeroom. I remember exactly what he was wearing, too, and the mess of his hair, the sneakers with their blue-tinged laces. His right shoe was untied. He didn't notice.
He didn't notice anything but Lena.
Mots clés love
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 they fight back.
Lauren OliverMots clés fight helping-people
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 be worshiped. It liked to see us fall on out knees before it offered to help us up..." ♥
Lauren OliverMots clés life inspiration fate determination delirium lena-holoway pandemonium requiem
Is it possible to tell the truth in a society of lies? Or must you always, of necessity, become a liar?
And if you lie to a liar, is the sun somehow negated or reversed?
Take down the walls.
Otherwise you must live closely, in fear, building barricades against the unknown, saying prayers against the darkness, speaking verse of terror and tightness.
Otherwise you may never know hell, but you will not find heaven, either. You will not know fresh air and flying.
Mots clés requiem-lauren-oliver
There's always some relief in giving up.
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