Top 109 Quotes & Sayings by Julie Anne Peters

The truth remains. I was, and am, disgusted with myself.

People don't change. There are two kinds of people in the world: winners and losers. Black and white. I don't know where gray fits in, or if you can even live in that shade.

What can happen in a few minutes changes you forever.

I knew right then and there nothing was ever going to change. It wouldn't matter if I was tall or short or fat or thin or absent every day. I was a loser from birth.

What did she see in me? What does she see that I don't?

Your failures and your faults, they stick with you. They glob into ugly, cancerous growths inside you and make you want to die.

I'm going to die a virgin. I like the thought if it. So pure.

I have no intent. I have no reason to live, that's all. When I'm gone, I don't want to be remembered.

Year after year. "Please don't make me go [to school]" "You have to go," Kim would say. "It's a new school, make a new start." "Sticks and stones." from Chip. Words will only kill you.

My mother read that parents should spend quality time with their children. One way is to sign up for organized activities together. This month we're taking meditation to free the mind. Last month it was Rolfing. Have you ever Rolfed, Tone?" "Only after the school's shepherd's pie," I said.

There's always a way out. All you have to do is take it.

Is that all I am? A friend?" "Of course not," I say. "I love you." "Am I the only one?" she asks. "Yes. Completely." First, last, and always.

With determination and purpose, I head into the light.

Secrets. I can't take then with me. If I do, when I go, when I arrive at my final destination, I'll be . . . impure.

Trust. That was what this was all about. If you can't trust the one you love, you don't have anything.

What was I afraid of, exactly? What other people would think? I guess, a little. But that wasn't what was stopping me from acting on my feelings. It was the intensity of them. The desire for her. I knew if I gave into it, I'd have to surrender myself completely. I'd lose all control. Everything I knew, everything I was, the walls I'd built up to protect myself all these years would come crashing down. I might get lost in the rubble. Yet, she made me feel alive in a way I'd only ever imagined I could feel. Bells, whistles, music.

His invitation lingers. So does my question. Why me? I don't know the answer. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a starving, stunted bird who never grew wings and lost all reason to sing.

Would I cheat to save my soul? No. But to save my G.P.A.? Yes.

Sometimes I felt as if there were no tomorrows, that everything, my whole life, was crammed into one long day. A continuous stretch of meaningless time. Sometimes I even wished there was no tomorrow, if this was all I had to look forward to.

Girls scare me more than boys. Boys are cruel. Girls are mean.

What will I become? Because I won't be me any longer. That will be a relief. I dont want to be the helpless person I've always been.

But you'd sell your soul for it, wouldn't you? For one day of feeling beautiful.

...the man of my dreams is a girl.

His eyes are like a telescope. I look into them and I'm transported across the universe to a world I've never been.

Miracles don't happen. You make them happen. They're not wishes or dreams or candles on a cake. They're not impossible. Reality is real. It's totally and completely under my control.

What's the point of living if you don't belong anywhere?

How does he do it? Live. With the fear of death every day. I don't fear death as much as I fear the thought of living.

But I'm no hero. I had to keep my dirty little secret. The worst sin I committed was holding it in; letting the secret blacken me.

But she never just accepted me for the way I was.

I never defended myself. Not once. I never said, "Excuse me? What gives you the right to insult and demean me?" I let them steal my dignity.

Yet, when we talked, when we were together, she seemed so familiar. Seemed to know who I was, where I was coming from. She knew me better than I knew myself, I think. She was easy to be with. And I wanted to be with her, like all the time.

I close my eyes and black out the day. The exhaustion of living through it, surviving.

My room is cleared. My head is cleared. Earlier, around dawn, I took out the last load of trash. I look around and see what's left. Nothing. There is no more Daelyn Rice. As I was. As I am. Or will become. I'm a blank slate

I won't be alive so I won't care who finds me.

I don't sleep. All night long I'm wide awake, thinking, Secrets, secrets, secrets. There are secrets in my past no one needs to know. Secrets in my present that might kill Kim and Chip. I don't want to take my secrets with me when I go. When I pass through the light, i want to be free of everything and everyone.

I shouldn't have been there. I should never have been born.

They didn't guarantee you'd come out a whole person.

I want to tell them, "Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person.

Everything seems to be working." Except me. I'm broken.

I wish I could tell my parents, " If you want to help me, help me die.

Really? It seems too good to be true. I don't trust it. I don't trust anyone.

Take it as a token. Because tomorrow when I go, I want you to believe friends are possible.

The sad truth is, they should never trust me.

Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.

Sometimes I'd catch myself looking at my reflection in windows and wonder who I was. Where I was going. Then the image would change and it wouldn't be me, just some nebulous shadow person.

What you see, isn't always what you get

It was her way of saying, "You should kill yourself.

Everyone's a liar. Everyone I've ever known.

Why are people so cruel? What did I ever do to them?

Stop trying to save me. You couldn't then; you can't now.

Because no one can be trusted.

I'm sorry you don't get it, Mom. Sometimes I don't get why I do the things I do. I just know I wake up every morning and wish I was dead.

Oh sure. Because we always talk about deep down stuff.

Who will see you through the darkness? "Me," I key in the answer. "I'll find my own way.

I just want the pain to end.

Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.

...When I asked [my dad why the sky was blue] he said it was because God's a boy. If God were a girl, the sky would be pink. 'What about sunrise and sunset?' I'd asked. Dad had looked dumbfounded. 'You kids. You think too much.' It frightened me how shallow the gene pool was that Liam and I were wading in.

No one ever found out what was happening inside me. How the pain was eating me away. No one ever came to my rescue, or stood up for me.

And it’s more. It’s about getting past that question of whats wrong with me, to knowing there’s nothing wrong, that you were born this way. You're a normal person and a beautiful person and you should be proud of who you are. You deserve to live and live with dignity and show people your pride.

I've never been afraid of the dark. I'm more afraid of the day, of people. I love the night. The solitude. Well, I don't love it. I don't feel love. I hate people, so I hope when I get there it isn't crowded. I hope the light is a momentary phenomenon and the other side is completely black. And silent.