Andrea Lochen Quotes

It's like I'm trying to keep the bad away with one hand while holding on to the good with the other, and it just doesn't work. It's stupid. I need both hands. So I guess I just have to spread out my arms and accept the bad with the good.

Love had still seemed like such a paltry thing in the face of all my doubts then, much the way it felt now. David had worries my love couldn't touch, fears my love couldn't easily dispel. My love seemed like a well-worn blanket instead of the titanium shield I needed.

What made Olive the saddest about the Gardners was that everyone wanted to be enshrined in someone's memory. It was the only way of living on after death, really: in the minds of loved ones. Memories were the only things that made aging bearable, a way of reverting to better, simpler days.

I know a little something about fear, honey. I know what a relief it feels like to give into it at first. It's not hard to persuade yourself that you're doing the right thing - that you're making the smart, safe decision. But fear is insidious. It takes anything you're willing to give it, the parts of your life you don't mind cutting out, but when you're not looking, it takes anything else it damn well pleases, too.

It was a lesson she was still learning. When she had first started nursing, she had taken every death personally, like she was losing her father all over again. Every patient lost under her care was a little piece of death she would carry around with her until the end of her own life. But the alternative seemed so unfeeling. Tina and the other nurses could crack jokes and banter back and forth about contestants on American Idol before the body of a deceased patient was even cold. It was a coping mechanism, she knew, but not necessarily one she thought she would ever adopt. There had to be something in between. Olive had been called a bleeding heart before, but her heart no longer had the same plasticity and tenderness - it was scarred and worn beyond repair

What good were fate and fortune anyway? If there was some sort of plan she was supposed to follow, it was unreadable to her and impossible to stick to. She was tired of fate, which was probably just a made-up concept invented by humans to feel like something or someone was guiding them anyway. God, spirits, cookies, whatever. She was so sick of buying into the idea that there was actually meaning behind any of this. It was just her, blind and alone, making a mess of her life on her own, thank you very much.

Sometimes I felt like I was drawn to mania. That Patrick was right, and I had loved him only during his manic episodes. That mania was true love. And it could consume you like it had consumed Patrick, or it could leave you feeling tired and used up, like it had left me. Nothing seemed to exist in between.

She felt empty yet full, spent yet bursting with energy, drowsy yet wide awake. She felt love.

It's not called 'falling in love' for no reason. It's scary! It's like jumping out of a plane with no parachute. Or bungee-jumping without your cord attached. Or hang-gliding with only one wing.