Sarah Dessen Quotes (240 Quotes)

An ending was an ending. No matter how many pages of sentences and paragraphs of great stories led up to it, it would always have the last word.

It was so easy to disown what you couldnÆt recognize, to keep yourself apart from things that were foreign and unsettling

Relationships dont always make sense. Especially from the outside

As if it didnt matter what was on, but instead how hard i was listening.

I thought again how you could never really know what you were seeing with just a glance, in motion, passing by. Good or bad, right or wrong. There was always so much more.

One open, one closed. It was no wonder that the first image that came to mind when I thought of either of my sisters was a door. With Kirsten, it was the front one to our house, through which she was always coming in or out, usually in mid-sentence, a gaggle of friends trailing behind her. Whitney's was the one to her bedroom, which she preferred to keep shut between her and the rest of us, always.

Told you. Everything sounds better in the car wash.

Looking back, it seemed like it should have been harder to lose someone, or have them lose you, especially when they were in the same state, only a few towns over.

You don't have to make things harder then they have to be just to prove a point.

I don't think anyone would think that an ellipsis represents doubt or anything. I think it's more, you know, hinting at the future. What lies ahead.

Quiet and incredible. I really envy that.

When you had to do something, you had to do it. And eventually, if you were lucky, you did it well.

D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, Austin . . . and you. I'll be there soon.

I'd seen another shade of him, and if it had been light where we were now, he'd have seen the same of me. So I was grateful, as I had been so often in my life, for the dark.

So much hanging on just these things, tiny increments that together build a life. Like words build a story, and what had Ted said? One word can change the entire world

And all that pink. It's like a giant vagina in there

It was so easy to disown what you couldn't recognize, to keep yourself apart from things that were foreign and unsettling. The only person you can be sure to control, always, is yourself. Which is a lot to be sure of, but at the same time, not enough.

Sometimes a question can hurt more than an answer.

But as i lay there, it only seemes like silence filling my ears. And the thing was, it was so freaking loud.

I understood now. This voice, the one that had been trying to get my attention all this time, calling out to me, begging me to hear it -- it wan't Will's. It was mine.

One week, one strong. One scared, one bold. I was beginning to understand though, that there were no such things as absolutes, not in life, or in people. Like Owen said, it was day by day, if not moment by moment. All you could do was take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you're lucky, there's someone close enough to shoulder the rest.

Whether it was a song, a person, or a story, there was a lot you couldn't know from just an excerpt, a glance, or part of a chorus.

My mother has always been the point I calibrated myself against. In knowing where she was, I could always locate myself, as well. These months she'd been gone, I felt like I'd been floating, loose and boundaryless, but now that I knew where she was, I kept waiting for a kind of certainty to kick in. It didn't. Instead, I was more unsure than ever, stuck between this new life and the one I'd left behind.

You get what you give, but also what you're willing to take. The night before, I'd offered up my hand. Now, if I held on, there was no telling what it was possible to recieve in return.

I knew that in the silence that followed, that anything could happen here. It might be too late again. I might have missed my chance. But I would at least know I tried, that I took my heart and extended my hand, whatever the outcome.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda. It's so easy in the past tense.

Who knew three dots could make such a difference? Like everything else, a love or a wish or whatever, it was all in the way you read it.

Despite our differences, we did have a history. No one understood where I was coming from the way he did.

If what you're asking is how I debated whether or not to love her the answer is I didn't. Not at all. It just happened. I didn't ever question it; by the time I realized what was happening, it was already done.

That was the nice thing about the Spot: you could hear everything, but no one could see you.

Because maybe, the best of times were yet to come. You never knew.

It was so weird, because usually I was totally nervous talking to guys. But Eli was different. He made me want to say more, not less. Which was maybe not a good thing.

Sometimes, you get things right the first time. Others, the second. But the third time, they say, is the charm.

But those words were only the middle of the story. There was a beginning here, too.

I wanted to tell him so. Find the right words, string them together in the ideal way, knowing that here they would have the best chance of sounding perfect.

Only a real asshole takes liberties with someone else's car stereo. That's serious.

You really get to meet people on such a personal level. There's a real bonding in someone beating the crap out of you.

My point is, there are a lot of people in the world. No one ever sees everything the same way you do; it just doesn't happen. So when you find one person who gets a couple of things, especially if they're important ones... you might as well hold on to them. You know?

An empty frame, in which the picture is always changing, makes a statement about how time is always passing. It doesn't really stop, even in a single image. I t just feels that way.

I realized how truly hard it was, really, to see someone you love change right before your eyes. Not only is it scary, it throws your balance off as well.

So you should remember that, when you're thinking about what other people can deal with. Maybe it's not so bad.

You know, feeling and action are always linked, one can't exist without the other. It's sort of a hippie thing.-Wes

He always did the leaving. But not this time. She kept walking, and did not look back.

In a way, I was almost happy to see her. The worst part of me, out in the flesh. Blinking back at me in the dim light, daring me to call her a name other than my own.

The chances we take, knowing no better than to fall or to stand back and hold ourselves in... protecting our hearts with the tightest of grips.

Call it crazy, or just chicken salad.

It was terrible and awful when someone left you. You could move on, do the best you could, but like Eli had said, an ending was an ending. No matter how many pages of sentences and paragraphs of great stories led up to it, it would always have to have the last word.

Sometimes, you have to manufacture your own history. Give fate a push, so to speak.

But you only get so many do-overs in this life, so many chances to, if not change your past, alter your future.

I was so scared about being discovered, but nobody came. Nobody heard. In my own ears, though, my sobs sounded primal and scary, like something I would have turned off if I'd been able to.