Jandy Nelson Quotes
She's a sun-kissed beach girl who goes gothgrungepunkhippierockeremocoremetalfreakfashionistabraingeekboycrazyhiphoprastagirl to keep it under wraps.
The first thing I notice is the sky, so full of blue and the kind of brilliant white clouds that make you ecstatic to have eyes. Nothing can go wrong under this sky.
I'm layering away: sauce, noodles, I belong to you, cheese, sauce, my heart is yours, noodles, cheese, I hear your soul in your music, cheese, cheese, CHEESE.
... if you're someone who knows the worst thing can happen at any time, aren't you also someone who knows the best thing can happen at any time too?
In one split second I saw everything I could be, everything I want to be. And all that I'm not.
I always imagined music trapped inside my clarinet, not trapped inside of me. But what if music is what escapes when a heart breaks?
Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes part of you, step for step, breath for breath.
Grief and love are conjoined, you don't get one without the other. All I can do is love her, and love the world, emulate her by living with daring and spirit and joy.
People die, I think, but your relationship with them doesn't. It continues and is ever-changing.
The guy's life drunk, I think, makes Candide look like a sourpuss. Does he even know that death exists?
I have an impulse to write all over the orange walls- I need an alphabet of endings ripped out of books, of hands pulled off of clocks, of cold stones, of shoes filled with nothing but wind.
The architecture of my sister's thinking, now phantom. I fall down stairs that are nothing but air.
We were all heading for each other on a collision course, no matter what. Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.
What kind of world is this? And what do you do about it? What do you do when the worst thing that can happen actually happens?
No hot guys should be allowed to have an English accent and drive a motorcycle. Not to mention wear the leather jacket or sport the cool shades. Hot guys should be forced into footie pajamas.
Someone might as well roll up the whole sky, pack it away for good.
Remember how it was when we kissed? Armfuls and armfuls of light thrown right at us. A rope dropping down from the sky. How can the word love and the word life even fit in the mouth?
Let me just unsubscribe to my own mind already, because I don't get any of it.
How could a mother who boils water for pasta leave two little girls behind?
Reality is crushing. The world is a wrong-sized shoe. How can anyone stand it?
It’s never occurred to me that the stars are still up there shining even in the daytime when we can’t see them.
It's such a colossal effort not to be haunted by what's lost, but to be enchanted by what was.
Sometimes you think you know things, know things very deeply, only to realize you don't know a damn thing.
And why do English people sound smarter than the rest of us? Like they should be awarded the Nobel Prize for a simple greeting?
And then he smiles, and in all the places around the globe where it's night, day breaks.
When he plays all the flowers swap colors and years and decades and centuries of rain pour back into the sky
I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes when the grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe.
Dreams change, yes, that makes sense, but I didn't know dreams could hide inside a person.
I heard this expression once: Each time someone dies, a library burns. I'm watching it burn right to the ground.
For the first time in our lives, I’m somewhere she can’t find, and I don’t have the map to give her that leads to me.
