A Quote by Lauren Oliver
I don't know how i stay on my feet, why i don;t just shatter into dust right there, why my heart keeps beating when i want it so badly to stop
Related Quotes
Anything you say from your heart to God is a prayer. But "why" is rarely a useful question. When Job keeps asking God why he has had such loss and suffering, God says, "You wouldn't understand." I always want to know why, and I almost never have a good answer.
The concept of minimum wage is crazy, if you really stop to think about it. If $8 an hour seems right, why not $20 an hour? If its coming by order of the government, why stop at any level? Why not just say everyone should get what Gates gets?
The concept of minimum wage is crazy, if you really stop to think about it. If $8 an hour seems right, why not $20 an hour? If it's coming by order of the government, why stop at any level? Why not just say everyone should get what Gates gets?
'How' is a great thing to know. 'Why' is the ultimate. I'm the 'why' coach. Why are we doing this? Why are we not doing that? Why is this not working? Those are the things I want to know.
Why, Jon, why?" his mother asked. "Why is it so hard to be like the rest of the flock, Jon? Why can't you leave low flying to the pelicans, the alhatross? Why don't you eat? Son, you're bone and feathers!" "I don't mind being bone and feathers mom. I just want to know what I can do in the air and what I can't, that's all. I just want to know.
Then why are you crying?” “Because of you!” I beat my fists on his chest. “Because I love you, and I don’t know what to do! I can solve almost any problem, but I can’t solve this. I don’t know how to deal with that. And I’m afraid! Afraid for you! Do you know what it’d do to me if something happens to you?” I stopped hitting him and clasped my hands over my own chest, as though there was a danger my heart might fall out. “This! This would break. Shatter. Crumble. Crumble until it was dust.” I dropped my hands. “Blown away on the wind until there was nothing left.
It's very difficult to stay in one's heart as it keeps beating
You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.
My father once told me that a happy ending is just the place where you choose to stop telling the story. So this is where I choose to stop. More things are still going to happen, of course, some good, some bad. Some things never get any better. When people die they stay dead. None of us knows why we love, or why we stop loving, or why everyone we love we lose.
I don't know why this world keeps turning, round and round. But I wish it would stop and let me off right now!
It's okay if you want to go. Everyone wants you to stay. I want you to stay more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. But that's what I want and I could see why it might not be what you want. So I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you go. It's okay if you have to leave us. It's okay if you want to stop fighting.
Everyone in the top of their fields is pouring everything they have into this, which is why it was such a massive undertaking and why filming was extended. It's not because things are going badly. It's because they're so massive and it's so complicated and we want to get it right. We're not just phoning it in. We're taking our time with it because it's really important.
I usually try to connect with young filmmakers over the phone so I can hear them and just pick their brain as to why they want to tell the story. And usually, I'm on board. I go, "Yeah, I'd love to help. And I just need to know why you want to do this,' and it's usually an easy process because a filmmaker usually reveals his or her heart in telling the story. And that's why I'm pretty much of a softy when it comes to helping along the young ones along the way.
Why do we smile? Why do we laugh? Why do we feel alone? Why are we sad and confused? Why do we read poetry? Why do we cry when we see a painting? Why is there a riot in the heart when we love? Why do we feel shame? What is that thing in the pit of your stomach called desire?
Sometimes we ask ourselves 'Why?' Why do I continue to smile, to give, to live? Why do I continue to stand, despite the ferocity of the wind that keeps blowing, that keeps slapping against my face, creating a pressure that says 'fall'? Why I don't I listen to those who call me a fool because I continue to love despite my hurt? I don't know what tomorrow brings; I don't know if my troubles will seize or if my sorrows will continue. But this much I do know - I will continue to hold out, I will continue to press on, until my blessing comes.
This is not just a simple story of "money can't buy happiness." Or maybe that's just what it is. And if it is, why shouldn't it be? Because if this is something we are already supposed to know, then why don't we know it? Why do we chase and scrabble and fight for things to flaunt, why? Why do we reach for power over other people, and through the thin superiority of our possessions, believe we have it? Why do we let money make people bigger, and allow those without it to be made smaller? How did we lose the truth in the frantic, tribal drumbeat of more, more, more?
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