Zitate und Sprüche von Lauren DeStefano

Maybe hope isn't the most dangerous thing a person can have. Maybe love is.

Because even if the lie is beautiful, the truth is what you face in the end.

"You're insane, you know that?" he says.
"It's the only thing keeping me afloat," I say.

"I lost everyone I loved," I tell him. I wait for him to look at me, and then I add, "The day I met you."

I'll tell you something about true love. There's no science to it. It's as natural as the sky.

Love unrequited is violent. He loves you so much that he's turned it into hate.

Maybe hope isn't such a bad thing. Maybe it's what keeps us together.

There's a limit to how much living can be done in a life without freedom.

When we're alive, life consumes us. But when we die, all of the color and the motion is gone so quickly, it's as though it can no longer stand to be wasted on us.

Every star has been set in the sky. We mistakenly think they were put there for us.

I used to have only one name; it used to mean something.

"Momentum," She repeats. "You can't just stand there if you want something to fly. You have to run."

Once upon a time there were two parents, two children, and a brick house with lilies in the yard. The parents died, the lilies wilted. One child disappeared. Then the other.

I liked just being with you. I liked the way you breathed when you were asleep. I liked when you took the champagne glass from my hand. I liked how your fingers were always too long for your gloves.

Fate, I think, is a thief.

You've been captive for so long that you don't even realize you want freedom anymore.

So many of the things I've wanted are the things I've been taught to fear.

We destroy things with our curiosity. We shatter with our best intentions.

I've done it all before, I tell myself, and I can do it again. Trust is the strongest weapon.

It's the silence I imagine in the rest of the world, the silence of an endless ocean and uninhabitable island, a silence that can be seen from space.

Eventually I realize that I am holding on to him just as tightly as he holds on to me. And here we are: two small dying things, as the world ends around us like falling autumn leaves.

Rhine. The river that, somewhere out there, has broken free.

We figure out what death means when we're born, practically, and we live our whole lives in some kind of weird denial about it.