I really think that everyone should have watercolors, magnetic poetry, and a harmonica.
Maybe these are my glory days, and I'm not even realizing it because they don't involve a ball.
Ther perfect song on the perfect drive to make you feel infinite.
You know . . . a lot of kids at school hate their parents. Some of them got hit. And some of them got caught in the middle of wrong lives. Some of them were trophies for their parents to show the neighbors like ribbons or gold stars. And some of them just wanted to drink in peace.
I spent all night working on it, and I hope Patrick likes it as much as I do. Especially the second side. I hope it's the kind of second side that he can listen to whenever he drives alone and feel like he belongs to something whenever he's sad. I hope it can be that for him.
I'm not saying she was lying to me, but she just acted so different before I got to know her, and if she really isn't like what she was at the beginning, I wish she could have just said so.
Maybe these are my glory days, and I'm not ever realizing it because they involve a ball.
So, I looked up, and we were in this giant dome like a glass snowball, and Mark said that the amazing white stars were really only holes in the black glass of the dome, and when you went to heaven, the glass broke away, and there was nothing but a whole sheet of star white, which is brighter than anything but doesn't hurt your eyes. It was vast and open and thinly quiet, and I felt so small.
There are other people who have it a lot worse
You take girls, for example. They're copying their moms and magazines and everything to know how to act around guys. I mean it's not like in movies where girls like assholes or anything like that. It's not that easy. They just like somebody that can give them purpose.
I think they were afraid that some of us would try to kill ourselves or something because they looked very tense and one of them kept touching his beard.
I'm so sorry that I wasted your time because you really do mean a lot to me and I hope you have a very nice life because I really think you deserve it. I really do. I hope you do, too. Okay, then. Goodbye.
Maybe this are my glory days, and I'm not even realizing it...
Some kids look at me strange in the hallways because I don't decorate my locker,...
There were other stories and other names. Second Base Stace, who had breasts in fourth grade and let some of the boys feel them. Vincent, who took acid and tried to flush a sofa down the toilet. Sheila, who allegedly masturbated with a hot dog and had to go to the emergency room. The list went on and on.
I walk around the school hallways and look at the people. I look at the teachers and wonder why they're here. If they like their jobs. Or us. And I wonder how smart they were when they were fifteen. Not in a mean way. In a curious way. It's like looking at all the students and wondering who's had their heart broken that day, and how they are able to cope with having three quizzes and a book report due on top of that. Or wondering who did the heart breaking. And wondering why.
I'm trying not to think about it too much because that makes it worse. It's kind of like when you look at yourself in the mirror and you say your name. And it gets to a point where none of it seems real. I can do that, but I don't need an hour in front of a mirror. It happens very fast, and things start to slip away.
More like the movie where the guy meets a smart girl who wears a lot of sweaters and drinks cocoa. They talk about books and issues and kiss in the rain.
Sometimes people use thought to not participate in life.
There's nothing like deep breaths after laughing that hard. Nothing in the world like a sore stomach for the right reasons.
I want to make sure that the first person you kiss loves you, okay?
It was the kind of kiss I could never tell my friends about out loud. It was the kind of kiss that made me know I was never so happy in my whole life.
My dad said I did the right thing. I hope I did, but it's hard to tell sometimes.
Sometimes, I think Bill forgets that I am sixteen. But I am very happy that he does.
I don't want to be somebody's crush. If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am.
I wanted to laugh. Or maybe get mad. Or maybe shrug at how strange everyone was, especially me.
It's just that I don't want to be somebody's crush. If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am. And I don't want them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it too.
More Stephen Chbosky Quotations (Based on Topics)
Sadness - People - Life - Mothers - Sisters - Memory - Time - Infinity - Books - Sense & Perception - Friendship - Purposes - Curiosity - Truth - Shopping - Happiness - Reasoning - Madness - Light - View All Stephen Chbosky Quotations
More Stephen Chbosky Quotations (By Book Titles)
- The Perks of Being a Wallflower
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