Gayle Forman Quotes

Love, it never dies. It never goes away, it never fades, so long as you hang on to it. Love can make you immortal

Quitting’s not hard. Deciding to quit is hard. Once you make that mental leap, the rest is easy.”“Really? Was that how you quit me?” And just like that, without thinking, without saying it in my head first, without arguing with myself for days, it’s out there.“So,” she says, as if speaking to an audience under the bridge. “He finally says it.

I think of me and Melanie when we were younger, on the high dive at the pool in Mexico. We would always hold hands as we jumped, but by the time we swam back up to the surface, we'd have let go. No matter how we tried, once we started swimming, we always let go. But after we bobbed to the surface, we'd climb out of the pool, clamber up the high-dive ladder, clasp hands, and do it again. We're swimming separately now. I get that. Maybe it's just what you have to do to keep above water. But who knows? Maybe one day, we'll climb out, grab hands, and jumo again.

In the calculus of feelings, you never really know how one person's absence will affect you more than another's.

I want to undo this. To make it right. But I have no idea how. I don't seem to know how to open up to people without getting the door slammed in my face. So I do nothing.

Pete and Repeat went out in a boat. Pete fell out. Who was saved?

Adam is crying and somewhere inside of me I am crying, too, because I'm feeling things at last. I'm feeling not just the physical pain, but all that I have lost, and it is profound and catastrophic and will leave a crater in me that nothing will ever fill.

I don't want to lose you because of the f**ked-up way I found you.

[My parents] always seemed less like lovebirds than like amiable business partners, for whom I'm the sole product.

The talks were like blood transfusions, moments of realness and hope that were pinpricks of light in the dark fabric of small-town life.

She looks at me, square in the eye. Taking aim. And then she pulls the trigger. “Because I hated you.”The wind, the noise, it all just goes quiet for a second, and I’m left with a dull ringing in my ear, like after a show, like after a heart monitor goes to flatline.“Hated me? W

It's just accidental, just temporary. Until the next accident sends me somewhere new. That's how life works.

But then Mason touches my neck, to the spot on it where the cut from that night has since healed, and I pull away.He was right, after all; it didn't leave a scar, though part of me wishes it had. At least I'd have some evidence, some justification of this permanence. Stains are even worse when you're the only one who can see them.

We tell our secrets to the dark.

One in a million cases; such comforting odds, except when you were the one

It's my turn to see you through,' she whispers, coming back to me and wrapping me in her blanket as I lose my shit all over again. She holds me until I recover my Y chromosome.

Sometimes I did feel like I came from a different tribe. I was not like my outgoing, ironic dad or my tough-chick mom. And as if to seal the deal, instead of learning to play electric guitar, I'd gone and chosen the cello.

I clap because I know what will happen when I stop. It's the same thing that happens when I turn off a really good movie - one that I've lost myself to - which is that I'll be thrown back to my own reality and something hollow will settle in my chest. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie all over again just to recapture that feeling of being inside something real. Which, I know, doesn't make any sense.

I run my finger along the crease of the envelope, feel the weight of history inside. Wherever I'm going next, these are coming with me.

I remember watching it all and getting the tickling in my chest and thinking to myself: This is what happiness feels like.

You dumb-ass," I crooned, kissing her on the forehead. "You don't share me. You own me.

But Dad looked delighted. "My Mia's singing 'Waiting for Vengeance' to my Teddy. What do you think about that?

even though I think that Mia and I have enough secrets between the two of us at this point

There are monsters all around usThey can be so hard to seehey don't have fangs, no blood-soaked clawsThey look like you and me. But we're not defenselessWe're no damsels in distressTogether we can fend off the attackAll we gotta do is watch our backs.Your body is beautiful how it isWho you love is nobody's business We all contemplate life and deathIt's the poet who gives these thoughtsbreath.The monster is strong, don't be mistakenIt thrives on fear-keeps us isolatedBut together we can fend off its attackAll we gotta do is watch our backs.In your darkest hourWhen the fight's made you wearyWhen you think you've lost your powerWhen you can't see clearlyWhen you're ready to surrenderGive in to the blacklook over your shoulderI've got your back.

I clap so that I can hold on to this feeling. I clap because I know what will happen when I stop. It’s the same thing that happens when I turn off a really good movie - one that I’ve lost myself to - which is that I’ll be thrown back to my own reality and something hollow will settle in my chest.

Stains are even worse when you're the only one who can see them.

Doubt is part of searching. Same as faith.

Life is a big fat gigantic stinking mess, that's the beauty of it, too.

Pictures can be pretty deceptive.

We stand there for a moment, staring at each other, savoring it. And then all at once, we slam together. Mia's legs are off the ground, wrapped around my waist, her hands dipping in my hair, my hands tangled in hers. And our lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that our lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. We kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Brooklyn must be surging.

But that's the thing with death. The whisper of it descent travels fast and wide, and people must've know I'd become a corpse because nobody even came to view the body.

I'll keep you here.' He taps his temple. 'Where you can't get lost.

He gives me a little shrug, like, of course, why else? And at this point, I really have no right to be surprised by people's capacity for kindness and generosity, but still, I am. I'm floored every time.

But sometimes the memories feel so real, so visceral, so personal, that I confuse them with my own.

I wasn't in danger today," I tell him in a choked voice. "I escaped danger today." And I did... I feel like the whole day has been an electrical shock, paddles straight to my heart, bringing me out of a lifelong torpor I hadn't even known I was in. "I escaped," I repeat.

If you could know going in that twenty-five years of love would break you in the end, would you risk it? Because isn’t it inevitable? When you make such a large withdrawal of happiness, somewhere you’ll have to make an equally large deposit. It all goes back to the universal law of equilibrium.

Is this how it is with lies? The first one comes hard, the second one easier, until they slip off your tongue easier than truths - maybe because they are easier than truths.

There are so many things that demand to be said. Where did you go? Do you ever think about me? You've ruined me. Are you okay? But of course, I can't say any of that.

You never know what will last."He said that earlier, about accidents, about never knowing which one is just a kink in the road and which one is a fork, about never knowing your life is changing until it's already happened."I think sometimes you do know," I say, my voice filling with emotion.

I'll be your mess, you be mineThat was the deal that we had signed

I don't really care. I shouldn't have to care. I shouldn't have to work this hard. I realize now that dying is easy. Living is hard.

You must not waste your one day here. When the sun shines, you let it shine on you. Snow is always waiting.

I've hardly taken any pictures on this trip. Melanie teased me about it, to which I always said I preferred to experience something rather than obsessively record it. Though, really, the truth of it was, unlike Melanie (who wanted to remember the shoe salesman and the mime and the cute waiter and all the other people on the tour), none of that really mattered to me. At the start of the trip, I took shots of the sights. The Colosseum. Belvedere Palace. Mozart Square. But I stopped. They never came out very well, and you could get postcards of these things.But there are no postcards of this. Of life.

Fake it 'till you make it.

Accidents. It's all about the accidents.

It's just one day, one twenty-four-hour period to get yourself through. - Adam

Allyson meanwhile is remembering. Why this person? All the things she has told herself, or other people have told her - infatuation or Paris or good acting or lust - no longer hold water, because she remembers so viscerally and feels it anew. It's not any of that. It's not even him. Or all him. It's her. The way she can be with him.

Adam's lips are set in a grime line. I can't tell if he's about to cry or about to punch the guard. For his sake, I hope it's the former. For you own, I hope the latter.

It's like you're averse to adventure.

Dying is easy. Living is hard

To be or not to be: that is the question. That's from Hamlet's - maybe Shakespeare's - most famous soliloquy. I had to memorize the whole speech for sophomore English, and I can still remember every word. I didn't give it much thought back then. I just wanted to get all the words right and collect my A.

I don't hate you. I don't think I ever really did. It was just anger. And once I faced it head-on, once understood it, it dissipated. -Mia

Sarcasm creates a chasm between yourself and others.

Please Mia," he implores. "Don't make me write a song.

But still, I find the need to remind myself of the temporariness of a day, to reassure myself that I got through yesterday, I'll get through today.

In a funny way, Dad was always a bow-tie wearer, always a little more traditional than you might imagine. Because even though he had blue hair and tattoos and wore leather jackets and worked in a record store, he wanted to marry Mom back at a time when the rest of their friends were still having drunken one-night stands. "Girlfriend is such a stupid word," he said. "I couldn't stand calling her that. So, we had to get married, so I could call her "wife"'.

Life might take you down different roads. But each of you gets to decide which one to take.

Firefly, it is an act of bravery to feel your feelings. Oh, Meg would've loved that. It's an act of bravery to feel your feelings, even if your feelings are telling you to die.

I'd wish you luck, Willem, but I think you need to stop relying on that

Letting go. Everyone talks about it like it's the easiest thing.