How was I supposed to concentrate on my mental health when my therapist was encased in orange sparkle madness?
E. LOCKHARTAlways do what you’re afraid to do. … I will prove myself strong when they think I am sick. I will prove myself brave when they think I am weak.
More E. Lockhart Quotes
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These guys, they were so sure of their places in life–so deeply confident of their merit and their future–they didn’t need any kind of front at all.
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Love is when you give someone else the power to destroy you, and you trust them not to do it.
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Always do what you’re afraid to do.
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Do not think about guys who have broken your heart six ways. It is mentally deranged to chase after heartbreak.
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A tomato may be a fruit, but it is a singular fruit. A savory fruit. A fruit that has ambitions far beyond the ambitions of other fruits.
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Someone once wrote that a novel should deliver a series of small astonishments. I get the same thing spending an hour with you.
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Love is when you have a really amazing piece of cake, and it’s the very last piece, but you let him have it.
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And this is my life, getting dumped with no warning. Or liking people who don’t like me back, or who don’t like me enough, or not as much as they like someone else.
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We can’t know or say what other people do. You have to think what you want to do to get the situation where you want it to be.
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Everything doesn’t seem like anything when you love someone. Especially when you’re young.
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…a box where she was expected to be sweet and sensitive (but not oversensitive); a box for young and pretty girls who were not as bright or powerful as their boyfriends. A box for people who were not forces to be reckoned with.
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If you don’t want to be in an argument with someone, it is probably best to try to solve the problem, rather than lying around hoping the other person will do it for you.
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My problem is I can think whatever I think-girl power, solidarity, Gloria Steinem rah rah rah – but I still feel the way I feel. Which is jealous. And pissy about little things.
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I looked at her. my lovely, tall mother with her pretty coil of hair and her hard, bitter mouth. Her veins were never open. Her heart never leapt out to flop helplessly on the lawn. She never melted into puddles. She was normal. Always. At any cost.
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You can’t have an ending. It’s impossible. Because unlike in the movies, life goes on. You’re never at the end until you die.
E. LOCKHART