Dawn O'Porter Quotes

The importance of friends and family in times of need By Renée Sargent
When people feel sad, what they need is attention. Not the kind of attention where they have to be told how amazing they all the time. Just kind of attention where they know that should they need you, you are there. I would like that kind of attention. I don't care about the other kind, even though everyone thinks I do.
When something horrible happens to someone the worst thing anyone can do is tell them off, or accuse them of being mean, or make them feel guilty about stuff they did that they are sorry about, because you can do bad things and be really sorry. They should just listen to them, and talk about things, because when you don't talk about things everything builds up inside you like boiling pan with a lid on. All the water dribbles out the sides but the lid won't come off. It's like that. Life just feels like little dribbles down the side of a pan.
I think friends and families are the ones who can lift the lid off in a good way.

My arm is weighted by the huge pile of clothing she's hung over it. A moment of clarity comes over me. This isn't what friendship is about, I know that now.

I feel like a waste of space. Like my whole life has been building up to the moment I failed. Like I don't have the energy to make up for what I've done, or to start again, or for anything. I feel like I want to be someone else.'
Miss Anthony moves to Margaret's old seat and puts her arm around me.
'You're not the tough little cookie everyone thinks you are, are you?

There is a massive gender imbalance on TV

Women can't keep complaining about how society treats them if they just take being told they're wrong all the time and don't react

I'm hoping for an apology. An acknowledgement that she's made me feel like crap about myself again, but obviously I don't get anything like that out of her. She just sits in front of my mirror, rearranging her cleavage.

I have two choices in life: I either try to do the right thing and get accused of being selfish, or I just do what is right for me and get called selfish anyway. This time, it's all about me.

If you're not dressing for yourself by forty-five then you need to have a major rethink.

Because as much as I dislike her, I would prefer not to have an enemy.

Can Flo come? She has so many clothes I really want her to get rid of.' I laugh. Flo's clothes are so funny. She buys one top and wears it every time we go out for six months, then buys another one and does the same. And the kinds of things she buys for school are boring. She gets things that look as close to school uniform as possible because she finds having to wear our own clothes every day so hard.

I just hug her, tell everything is fine, and walk with her to her house. It will be all OK in the end.

We tell each other everything. You take the rap for bad things I do, we have this amazing time together and then all day in classes you ignore me like I don't exist. And I have to watch you and Sally together, and you licking her arse and not telling her about me. And when she says something mean to me you just stand there. I don't even answer back like I used to, I take it and you just stand there and let her speak to me the way she does. What about the fact that I am your best friend now? How do you think that feels, Flo? It feels HORRIBLE, that is how it feels. HORRIBLE.'
I leave her standing in the rain. I deliberately go slowly so she can catch me up, but she doesn't. I get all the way home and she never comes after me.

Girls, I think. Why do women refer to themselves as girls? It's so weird

I scan the room for objects to hit her with. I want to hammer over the head with something, or stab her. I don't know what stops me, but I guess that's the difference between a good person and a murderer. The murderer doesn't stop themselves, but that doesn't mean good people, like me, don't have the same thoughts sometimes.

You don't have to tell me you're fine. I'm not fine. You're not fine either. We can be honest with each other about that, can't we?' I say. The sides of her face tense as tries to stop herself from crying, but she can't.
There is something about her grief that makes mine less exclusive. Less like my world isn't the only one falling apart.

For a spilt second we stare at each other. I feel an off sense of relief in making that statement. My breath is broken, his face is still. I want to apologise but the words won't come.
Instead I turn round and keep running home.

Wait, you clean my dildo?' I ask, slowly. 'Every week, I clean it with the polish.' 'With furniture polish?' 'Yes.' 'Jesus.' Sophie got me the dildo for my birthday present three years ago. I have never used it. No matter how little sex I get, I've never been able to get turned on by a piece of rubber. And thank God; I'd probably have died of toxic poisoning by now with half a gallon of Mr Sheen being wedged up my vagina. 'Katya,

You need to realise how gorgeous you are.'
She laughs, but I'm not trying to be funny. 'I mean it Flo, you really are. Somewhere under all that disbelief.