Death Quote by Laurie Halse Anderson — Inspiring Words on Life, Love & Wisdom

“Principal Principal: Where's your late pass, mister?”

“We tilt our heads back and open wide. The snow drifts into our zombie mouths crawling with grease and curses and tobacco flakes and cavities and boyfriend/girlfriend juice, the stain of lies. For one moment we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds. For one breath everything feels better.”

“CONJUGATE THIS:”

“If I ever form a clan, we'll be the anti-cheerleaders and walk under the bleacher forming mild acts of mayhem.”

“To keep up appearances, I stomp my room and slam the door.”

“When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time.”

“Those who pass by us, do not go alone, and do not leave us alone; they leave a bit of themselves, and take a little of us.”

“The people we’d want to share it all with die before we get it.”

“That time of year thou mayst in me behold”

“And it was as if fate had betrayed the soldier. In death it exposed to his enemies that poverty which in life he had perhaps concealed from his friends.”

“Then one morning she’d begun to feel her sorrow easing, like something jagged that had cut into her so long it had finally dulled its edges, worn itself down. That same day Rachel couldn’t remember which side her father had parted his hair on, and she’d realized again what she’d learned at five when her mother left – that what made losing someone you loved bearable was not remembering but forgetting. Forgetting the small things first, the smell of the soap her mother had bathed with, the color of the dress she’d worn to church, then after a while the sound of her mother’s voice, the color of her hair. It amazed Rachel how much you could forget, and everything you forgot made that person less alive inside you until you could finally endure it. After more time passed you could let yourself remember, even want to remember. But even then what you felt those first days could return and remind you the grief that was still there, like old barbed wire embedded in a tree’s heartwood.”