H.P. Oliver Quotes
willing me to understand: that people should be sacrificed to causes, that beauty can be built on the backs of the dead.
You don't reach points in life at which everything is sorted out for us. I believe in endings that should suggest our stories always continue.
In a world without love, this is what people are to each other: values, benefits, and liabilities, numbers and data. We weigh, we quantify, we measure, and the soul is ground to dust.
Are you ever afraid to go to sleep? Afraid of what comes next?” He smiles a sad little smile and I swear it’s like he knows. “Sometimes I’m afraid of what I’m leaving behind,” he says.
Most of the time one night blends into the next and weeks blend into weeks and months into other months. And sooner or later we all die. But at the beginning of the night anything’s possible.
Like I've been sketched by an amateur artist: if you don't look too closely, it's all right, but start focusing and all the smudges and mistakes become really obvious.
Someday she will be saved, and the past and all its pain will be rendered as smoothly palatable as the food we spoon to our babies.
The priests and the scientists are right about one thing: At our heart, at our base, we are no better than animals.
I have had to give up so much, so many selves and lives already. I have grown up and out of the rubble of my old lives, of things and people I have cared for.
Alex loved books. He was the one who first introduced me to poetry. That's another reason I can't read anymore.
The reason you can never go home again isn't necessarily that places change, but people do. So nothing ever looks the same.
Live free or die. Four words. Thirteen letters. Ridges, bumps, swirls under my fingertips. Another story. We cling tightly to it, and our belief turns it to truth.
Sarah: "Not bad. You look almost human." Lena: "Thanks." Sarah: "I said almost." Lena: "Well, then, almost thanks.
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 just pressing down.
If you want something, if you take it for your own, you'll always be taking it from someone else.
...if you are one tardy away from missing out on a big competition, you should probably make your coffee at home.
Is this freedom? Is it happiness? I don't know. I don't care anymore. It is different--it is being alive.
What glitters may not be gold; and even wolves may smile; and fools will be led by promises to their deaths.
It strikes me how strange people are. You can see them every day - you can think you know them - and then you fшnd out you hardly know them at all.
The idea—the fact of it, the fact that he even noticed and thought about me for more than one second—is huge and overwhelming, makes my legs go tingly and my hands feel numb.
Yeah, but our choices are limited. We choose from a list that they chose for us." She said. "Well, Choices are supposed to be limited. That's life" I snapped
Let me tell you something about dying: it's not as bad as they says. it's the coming-back-to-life part that hurts.
that's what it was like waking up in the crypts. no-longer-dead. but without her. like burning alive.
For a second I think about how easy it would be to pass back to the other side, to walk straight into the laboratories and offer myself up to the surgeons. You were right; I was wrong. Get it out.
I'll find you," he says, watching me with the eyes I remember. "I won't let you go again