Jenny Valentine Quotes

It's amazing what storms your face can hide, what terrible wrecks can writhe and heave beneath, without one ripple on the surface.

I told myself that some families we get without asking, while others we choose.
And I chose those two. I think that's what you'd call a silver lining.

I smiled back and I thought
how incredible that was, that they would find the time to smile. There was goodness in the world still, even if you couldn't always see it.

Get on with the business of living," Ernest told me. "You don't have any other choice.

I thought about having a proper room,
breathing life into it, and nobody minding.

Everything is going to be fine.
I hate it when people say that, people who have absolutely no idea of what's coming next. They turn you into an idiot for even asking.

It's what you do when you grow up, apparently, face up to things you'd rather not and accept the fact that nobody is who you thought they were, maybe not even close.

I didn't have time to lose it. I didn't have time to lie down in the corner shop and scream and beat the floor until my hands bled. I didn't have time to miss Jack. Stroma kept on chattering away and getting excited over novelty spaghetti shapes and finding the joy in every little thing, and it occurred to me even then that she was probably looking after me, too.

It's not knowing that drives you mad. It's imaging things that you wish you couldn't think up all by yourself.

But Wishing is addictive.

I cut off a piece of meatball dripping with sauce. I tried to make my face right. I tried to smile and not grimace, tried to close my eyes in delight , not panic; tried to swallow, not gag. They watched me like hawks.
'Delicious,' I said, still chewing. They tasted like salt and shit and gristle.
'As good as you remember?'
'Better.'
I got through two. I drank a lot of water. I broke them down into fractions of themselves, sixteen more to go, fourteen more, eight, one. In my head I said sorry to grandad, and to the lamb or pig or mixture of creatures I was eating. I put my knife and fork together with four of them still swimming on my plate.

What are you afraid of," she said. "Daylight?"
No. I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid of myself, of whatever it is I'm going to do or say to make it all go wrong. I'm desperately trying to avoid that moment and walking straight toward it, all at the same time.
"I'm just tired," I said.