Top 252 Quotes & Sayings by Deb Caletti - Page 5

I know parental embarrassment usually stops somewhere at fifteen, but he just kept on giving me good reasons.

Sometimes that´s all you need…, to know it´s not broken. To know you’re still whole and that you’ll heal.

But what I wanted back had never really been there. He was a temporary illusion, a mirage of water after walking in the desert. I had made him up. And he could have killed me. You've got to stop the ride sometimes. Stop it and get off.

Love seems to be something to approach with caution, as if you'd come across a wrapped box in the middle of the street and have no idea what it contains.

Maybe I was being too picky. Maybe I didn't want to be close to anyone. Maybe I'd just be the type who couldn't feel love all the way or something. I couldn't tell what was wrong, but what was wrong was that it just wasn't right.

This is not to say I don’t feel my own grief, which can hit powerfully at unexpected times. It’s just that the telling does not automatically bring on my own upset, as people assume. I deal more with their reaction than they do with mine, and so you have to choose your timing.

No, Mom. I said fine." "It's just your tone." Ah, yes- the tone. The nasty traitor.

An untold story has a weight that can submerge you, sure as a sunken ship at the bottom of the ocean.

We are thickly layered, page lying upon page, behind simple covers. And love - it is not the book itself, but the binding.

But, dear God, don't listen to me. I'm an old lady in the middle of nowhere without a real toilet.

The romantic element is what the story Essential Maps for the Lost, sort of sits on, but all the stuff below the surface is really about family. It's about the baggage we bring, both the good and the hard stuff in that baggage. It's more about the other relationships. It's about mothers and fathers and sisters and dogs, all of the pieces. It's really more about - yes, love, in its widest usage.

Just that, is one of those uncommon moments, those times when you don't wish for something else, for even one thing to be different; when you have no other needs or worries, where your insides are calm, and everything you were ever restless about, anything that had ever given you angst, is quieted to stillness. No steel ball in your chest, no breathless fear. No blue numbness of nearly passing out, no nagging doubts of the backstage mind. All of that, forgotten. It is just rightness, so rare.