Top 825 Quotes & Sayings by Sarah Dessen - Page 3

I can say I made a lot of mistakes, but I don't regret things. Because at least I didn't spend a life standing outside, wondering what living would be like.

funny how a beautiful song could tell such a sad story

Family isn’t something that’s supposed to be static, or set. People marry in, divorce out. They’re born, they die. It’s always evolving, turning into something else.

Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.

I've always written in first person. It gives the readers more insight.

I watched my mother do what she did best, and realized there would never be a way to cut myself from her entirely. No matter how strong or weak I was, she was a part of me, as crucial as my own heart. I would never be strong enough, in all my life, to do without her.

The fate of your heart is your choice and no one else gets a vote

When he stopped walking and kissed me a few minutes later, it was like time had stopped, with the air, my heart, and the world all so still. And it was this I remembered every other time I was with Marshall.

Nah," I said. "But if it does, just tell him I said to get back on the bike." "What?" "He'll understand.

Suddenly, I was just sure he was going to kiss me. He was there, I could feel his breath, the ground solid beneath us. But then something crossed his face, a thought, a hesitation, and he shifted slightly. Not now. Not yet. It was something I'd done so often - weighing what I could afford to risk, right at that moment - that I recognized it instantly. It was like looking in a mirror.

If you didn't love him, this never would have happened. But you did. And accepting that love and everything that followed it is part of letting it go.

After all, it's all kinds of things that make up a life, right? The big, like falling in love and spending time with your family, and the little....like blow drying your hair, applying concealer, and cursing those magazine inserts. It all counts. It has to.

It's just that...I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It's the universe's way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It's how life is.

I didnt pay atteniton to times or distance, instead focusing on how it felt just to be in motion, knowing it wasn't about the finish line but how I got there that mattered.

Some things don't last forever, but some things do. Like a good song, or a good book, or a good memory you can take out and unfold in your darkest times, pressing down on the corners and peering in close, hoping you still recognize the person you see there.

Your actions is like a raindrop; it falls into the pond making ripples and then its over.

I realized how truly hard it was, really, to see someone you love change right before your eyes. Not only is it scary, it throws your balance off as well.

See for me, it’s immediate. Silence is so freaking loud.' This seemed either deep or deeply oxymoronic. I wasn’t sure which.

I am coming to terms with the fact that loving someone requires a leap of faith, and that a soft landing is never guaranteed.

People don't change. If anything, you get more set in your ways as you get older, not less

It shouldn't be easy to be amazing. Then everything would be. It's the things you fight for and struggle with before earning that have the greatest worth. When something's difficult to come by, you'll do that much more to make sure it's even harder ? or impossible ? to lose.

Just like that, with one phone call, she was a daughter again.

Your past is always your past. Even if you forget it, it remembers you.

I knew this feeling, the 2 a.m. loneliness that I'd practically invented.

Her life was perfect. But as was often the case, the rest of us were still adjusting.

Leaving was easy. It was everything else that was so damned hard.

After everything that happened, how could I miss him? But I did, I did.

When I pictured myself, it was always like just an outline in a coloring book, with the inside not yet completed. All the standard features were there. but the colors, the zigzags and plaids, the bits and pieces that made up me, Halley, weren't yet in place. Scarlett's vibrant reds and golds helped some, but I was still waiting.

There was nothing, nothing to depend on. And why was I surprised?

Lissa lowered her voice and added, "I might not even go to school anyway. I might defer and join the Peace Corps and go to Africa and shave my head and dig latrines." "Shave your head?" I said, because, really, this was the most ludicrous part of the whole thing. "You? Do you have any idea how ugly most people's bare heads are? They've got all kinds of bumps, Lissa. And you won't know until it's too late and you're flat-out bald.

Fifteen minutes later, a meeting was called. "Okay, look." Deb's face was dead serious. "I know I just joined this project, and I don't want to offend anyone. But I'm going to be honest. I think you've been going about this all wrong." "I'm offended," Dave told her flatly.

How it felt to have the world moving beneath me, a hand gripping mine, knowing if I fell, at least I wouldn't do it alone.

Like a blinking cursor on an empty page, it was just the first thing. The beginning of the beginning. But at least it was done.

True friendship is a promise you keep forever.

If nothing else, now we knew where to find each other, even if only time would tell if either of us would ever come looking.

Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight, how it holds you in place.

I was running from one problem or place to another, with no time left to study, or sleep, or just breathe. I felt pulled in all directions, fighting to keep all these obligations circling in the air above me. It was only a matter of time before something fell.

That was the nice thing about the Spot: you could hear everything, but no one could see you.

I think the most important thing is just to write. It sounds so simple, but sometimes it's not. You can get so distracted - -by having to work other jobs, or what other people have to say about your writing - -but the one thing that really matters is that you just keep going, especially when you're working on a novel. It's so easy to get discouraged and give up.

Together, we looked down at the tiny house, the sole thing on this vast, flat surface. Like the only person living on the moon. It could be either lonely or peaceful, depending on how you looked at it. "It's a start," I said.

We all have one idea of what the color blue is, but pressed to describe it specifically, there are so many ways: the ocean, lapis lazuli, the sky, someone's eyes. Our definitions are as different as we are ourselves.

Believe in yourself up here and it will make you stronger than you could ever imagine.

I mean, it's not surprising, really. Once you love something, you always love it in some way. You have to. It's, like, part of you for good.

Relationships dont always make sense. Especially from the outside

It was kind of soothing, these sounds of lives being lived all around me, for better or for worse. And there I was, in the middle of them all, newly reborn and still waiting for mine to begin.

What is family? They were the people who claimed you. In good, in bad, in parts or in whole, they were the ones who showed up, who stayed there, regardless.

Yes, it sucked getting dumped. But wasn't it better to just be brutally honest? To admit that your feeling for someone is never going to be powerful enough to justify taking up any more of their time? I was doing him a favor, really. Freeing him up for a better opportunity. In fact, I was a practically a saint, if you really thought about it. Exactly.

Just me and the future, finally together. Now there was a happy ending I could believe in.

That first love. And the first one who breaks your heart. For me, they just happen to be the same person.

How do you even begin to return to someone, much less convince them to do the same for you? I had no idea. More than ever, though, right then I had to believe the answer would just come to me.

one word could change the whole world

It wasn't about being happy or unhappy. I just didn't want to be me anymore.

And no relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater.

talk was cheap and useless. Action was what mattered. And me, I was moving. Now, again, always.

You need demarcation." "Demarcation?" I asked. "It means a clear separation between two things," he told me. "A solid end before a clean beginning. No murky borders. Clarity.

I hoped this was true. Even if it wasn?t, all I could do was hand over what I could, with the hope of something in return. But of course, this was easier said than done.

Even if you do make tons of new friends,” I told him, “try not to forget where you came from, okay?

Sometimes really, really bad things happen to people, and there is no explanation and no reason whatsoever.

You can't just plan a moment when things get back on track, just as you can't plan the moment you lose your way in the first place.

So what do you wear to dump somebody?" she asked me, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. "Black, for mourning? Or something cheerful and colorful, to distract them from their pain? Or maybe you wear some sort of camouflage, something that will help you disappear quickly in case they don't take it well.