A Quote by Neal Shusterman

With hardly any effort at all, she made me feel special. Just like all the other people she toyed with. — © Neal Shusterman
With hardly any effort at all, she made me feel special. Just like all the other people she toyed with.
Though at this moment she felt abused, abandoned, and ashamed of herself, Madeleine knew that she was still young, that she had her whole life ahead of her--a life in which, if she persevered, she might do something special--and that part of persevering meant getting past moments just like this one, when people made you feel small, unlovable, and took away your confidence.
She had taken him for granted, she thought with surprise and shame, watching the flickering candlelight. She had assumed his kindness was so natural and so innate, she had never asked herself whether it cost him any effort. Any effort to stand between Will and the world, protecting each of them from the other. Any effort to accept the loss of his family with equanimity. Any effort to remain cheerful and calm in the face of his own dying.
I think she's great because she - the choices are mine, essentially, and she's just there to guide me. She's my manager, but I feel like she's more of a mom. Although she helps me with certain things, she's still my mom.
Apart from anything else, I got to work with Jennifer Lawrence. She’s a lovely girl. I know people often say things like that in interviews, but she really is. While she may be young, she doesn’t feel at all precocious. Instead, she’s smart and funny and terrific at connecting with people. She just blew me away.
I don't feel that Shaunae Miller cheated me because she didn't break any rules or anything like that, but I do feel like it's a very difficult way to lose. Having worked so hard and I know that that was such a close race, it just kind of made it even harder to deal with defeat just because of how it was done. But I don't think that she had any ill intention by it or did it on purpose. I think it just kind of happened.
I overheard people saying, 'She thinks she's so great because she's Debbie Reynolds' daughter!' And I didn't like it; it made me different from other people, and I wanted to be the same.
Just like Marilyn Monroe is a lot of girls' idol, that's how I feel about Dorothy Dandridge. And she any Marilyn were very close friends. She went through a lot, and people told her that she couldn't do certain things, but she didn't let that bother her. She said in her mind that she was going to do them and that nothing was impossible, and she did it. It was so sad... She died from drugs, and drinking as well.
Courage looks you straight in the eye. She is not impressed with power trippers, and she knows first aid. Courage is not afraid to weep, and she is not afraid to pray, even when she is not sure who she is praying to. When she walks it is clear she has made the journey from loneliness to solitude. The people who told me she was stern were not lying. they just forgot to mention she was kind.
Sometimes I feel as though there are two me's, one coasting directly on top of the other: the superficial me, who nods when she's supposed to nod and says what she's supposed to say, and some other, deeper part, the part that worries and dreams... Most of the time they move along in sync and I hardly notice the split, but sometimes it feels as though I'm two whole different people and I could rip apart at any second.
My daughter has changed me. She has made me grow up quicker because I don't just have a kid, I have a baby girl. She has made me more patient. I am actually soft when I get around her. I don't think she changed me as a fighter, but she has changed me as a person. She has helped me mature.
I first met Taylor Swift at an awards show, which is a pretty easy place to suss out who is cool. Right off the bat I was like, This is a person I want to know. Just because she's a very famous person doesn't mean she doesn't exist outside of that space. She's wonderful and special and treats me really nicely and we have a great, mature relationship. She's on a short list of people like that for me.
She was also, by the standards of other people, lost. She would not see it like that. She knew where she was, it was just that everywhere else didn't.
After I made 'A Crow Looked at Me,' I remember people saying things to me like, 'You've made a beautiful tribute to Genevieve.' And I felt like, no! No no no, I haven't. I made a tribute to my own destruction and desolation. This is not a portrait of her. That's not who she was. She wasn't just a person who died.
She had said she didn't feel fear, but it was a lie; this was her fear: being left alone. Because of one thing she was certain, and it was that she could never love, not like that. Trust a stranger with her flesh? The closeness, the quiet. She couldn't imagine it. Breathing someone else's breath as they breathed yours, touching someone, opening for them? The vulnerability of it made her flush. It would mean submission, letting down her guard, and she wouldn't. Ever. Just the thought made her feel small and weak as a child.
Ma is my biggest critic. When she cleans my cupboard she keeps nagging me as to why I have 20 shoes or why my accessories don't match my dresses. I just keep hiding things from her. There are times when I wonder why she can't praise me like other mommies. But, in a way she is right and I like it when she corrects me.
Everything just feels so empty without her. She was more a parent to me than my birth parents were. She took me in, fed, dressed me, but most importantly, she treated me with respect. She taught me that my abilities were nothing to be ashamed of, nothing I should try so hard to deny. She convinced me that what I had was a gift-not a curse- and that I shouldn't let other people's narrow minds and fears determine how I love, what I do, or how I perceive myself in the world. She actually made me believe that in no way, shape, or form did their uninformed opinions make me a freak.
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