Sara Wolf Quotes

Of course I do. I've seen you upstairs every day, checking out book after book. You stay here reading long after every other student has gone home. If there's one thing I know, it's that someone who loves reading as much as you do can never be stopped. No matter where you go, you'll have whole worlds in your head. No matter how hard life gets, you'll have whole people's lives worth of experience tucked away inside you. No matter how hard the world tries to silence you, there are millions and millions of words just waiting to burst from you.

"He kisses me. He kisses me and the world ends."

Being pretty is not my thing and I was stupid for testing the logical facts and practical boundaries. There are rules. And the number one rule is don't try to be someone you're not. I'm myself, no matter how ugly that is, and trying to be someone prettier is stupid, a waste of energy. I won't do that ever again, no matter how much I want to. It's not worth it. I will never be anything but ugly. And I've come to terms with that. I've made my peace with that.

She was probably a trusting, naïve girl before him, like a daisy. And then he came, and pulled her petals off one by one, forcing her to surround herself with thorns to survive.

Love is being accepted and adored for who you are, scars and all

Everything happens all the time forever, and this would be a terrifying concept if I wasn't so enlightened and in-tune with the natural forces of the universe, which include but aren't limited to; A. taco salad, B. taco salad, and C. my own glorious ass (glorioass).

Anyway, I like you but you're ruining my life. Bye.

Oh, horseshit! I-I mean, darn!" She corrects herself quickly. Why don't you come in and have some tea. Do you like tea? Or are you a coffee person? I can make coffee, just be warned it tastes like ass and looks like ass – I mean,butt.

I wake up in Satan's butthole. Everything is white - white walls, white beds, white light. Or Narnia. It could be Narnia. Did I die and go to Narnia? Because that would be rad.

I'll text if there's issues. Tissues. Not tissues, tissues are disgusting and so are issues.

Imagine having sex with a vampire."
"Imagine going to church and praying to your lord and savior," I offer.

You never get used to being slotted into a giant doughnut's vagina.

Yes, my style sucks. But at least I didn't bowl half a game with a nacho stuck to my ass.

Why do I feel the sudden urge to perform violence on your face?

Let's go. We have to confront her."
I scoff. "Confront her? That's a little mild, don't you think? I'm going to rip her tits off.

And then he came, and pulled her petals off one by one, forcing her to surround herself with thorns to survive. But he missed one petal. And she guards it with a tiger's ferocity.

Snow White! I remember her story. She was the one with the seven stunted humans looking after her. She cooked and cleaned and one day ate a radioactive fruit of some sort, and the creatures put her in a glass preservation tube and cried." I blink. "That sounds a little different than the one I remember.

You think you're clever, do you?"
"No." I purse my lips and tilt my head. "I know I'm clever.

Jack doesn't give a jackshit about me. No, wait, I got that backwards. I don't give a jackshit about Jack the Shit.

Thinking and talking about love leads to Love, which is the enemy. Do not consort with the enemy. Even if those hot-ass actors in the movies make it look cuddly and nice and tempting, don't fall for it. It's the biggest bad in the world, the worst villain ever created by hormone-pumped pubescent morons. It's the Joker, Lex Luthor, that one overweight guy who's always messing with the Scooby-Doo gang. It's the final boss in the massive joke of a video game you call your life.

Struggling through young adulthood is half the fun, or so I've been told. Except we all know that's bullshit. It wasn't fun at all. It was painful, and now I just wanna go somewhere no one knows me, start the next chapter of my life fresh. But I can't.

I never said it was an excuse...Simply that our pain breeds hate, and our hate makes us all do terrible things.

Fate has never once shied away from the opportunity to take a massive shit on my life..

Being ignorant isn't a crime, Crabby, it's a curable ailment.

Sometimes when life kicks you in the ass, you have to kick it back. In the nuts. With steel-toed boots. Essentially, if someone, anyone, kicks you, it is very mature to take the high-road and not kick them back. But it's not fun. And I'm all about fun. One hundred percent fun. One fundred percent.

It's the fear of what's in the dark that scares us, not the dark itself. Thanks, ancient Chinese philosophers. You guys are the best. And the deadest. But mostly the best. Jack's

I'm gross. Look at me – getting all sloppy in front of my mortal enemy. Unexecutable. Inexhaustible. Un…un…under the sea.

I always knew you had good taste, Mia. You should go talk to him." "I should go talk to him. I should also file my taxes on time, remember to floss regularly, and inherit seven million dollars. But I won't. Ever.

Pain is bearable only when you know with absolute certainty it'll end quickly.

I used to not be into clothes. It's hard to be into clothes when the only thing people see about you is the fat, not the fashion.

People like you - you don't find very often. He'll be back." "And when he comes back, I will behead him." I announce. "You'll greet him," Kayla says sternly. "With a hug." "I will greet him with a hug. To his torso. Which will be missing a head.

It's like God airbrushed the crap out of her, ran out of paint for everyone else, looked down at all the babies he was chucking to Earth and went 'hahah whoops but check this one out it's a masterpiece'.

Hogwarts didn't even send me a letter and I haven't actually forgiven them for that. Wait until I go to London and find Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters and slip through to the other side and unleash my rage. I'll make Voldemort look like a sock puppet. And I'll make-out with Draco. And I'll train a bunch of house-elves to fan me and bring me grapes -

I wake up i Satan's butthole.

The king's worth is exactly one potato.

You'll be okay driving home?" "Duh," I feel miffed that he'd pat me like a child, but also weird and glowy on the inside in places I don't even wanna think about. "I'm like a NASCAR driver. Minus the millions of dollars." "Shame, really. Imagine how many more people you could annoy if you were a millionaire." "At least ten whole people. And their grandmas.

Yvette informs me janitors cannot fly. Vampires, however, can. "Vampires are gross," I determine. "Have you even read Twilight?" "I've read so many things that are not that.

Fight with everything you have, everything you are. Everything that is left of you--battle with it. Fight by the moonlight, the starlight, whatever faded hope you can find at any moment--cling to it. Embrace the smallest of lights, and never stop fighting.

On nights it was hard to be in the palace, I would stand outside the manor and watch the lights of your bedroom. The black rose bushes were always in my way. But over time, I began to feel a fondness for them. Seeing a black rose meant was near you, near the one person who understood me.

I'm surrounded by people here, but I'm completely alone

I sleep for an entire day. And when I wake up I'm a new person. I'm empty. I've cried out everything I had in me. I'm an empty shell waiting to be filled with what comes next. Or I'm just being a total drama queen. I'm not empty. I'm still a person. I cried over a bad thing that happened in my life, but I probably shouldn't have. Compared to Mom's crisis, mine was small. Compared to a thousand other girls' around the world, mine is insignificant. It wasn't bad. Not compared to everyone else. It was just a couple seconds. It wasn't years. It wasn't months, like Mom. It wasn't a family member. Wasn't someone I see anymore. It didn't even hurt. There was no blood. It wasn't bad. Not compared to others'. So I should stop crying.

Most things that pop into my head are really weird, like that one time when I thought about Shrek in Victoria's Secret underwear.

Two closets wait to be filled with shoes or condoms or failed exams or whatever else college kids fill empty spaces with. Broken dreams, maybe.

What about your funeral, eh?" She asks. "You mean the one that is never going to happen ever because I am going to gather the seven Dragonballs and wish for eternal life?" She laughs. "Yeah, that one. What'd you want for it?" I muse it over for all of six and a half seconds. "Makeouts. Naked dancing. Maybe a cake.

I would love to slap you right now, but I'm currently wielding a nine pound ball and I'm afraid that would be called murder.

Newsflash; not everything that
drops from your gorgeous dumb mouth is
the truth." There's a pause. "Ah, shit. I just called you gorgeous. Now I have to commit seppuku."
"Don't you dare," I mumble into her neck.

Sin on a hot biscuit.

Sometimes people need to be messed up. It reminds them life is short.

Come! Come sit by me. It's a nice bench. Nice and lovely on the butt."
"You're drunk."
"Yeah, and you're ugly, but do I complain about it? No! Because I don't complain about things that I can't change. That's called intelligence.

Life is too long to be sad.

Horror. Horrible. The things people do these days to disrespect the dead are just awful. So we're going to respect my dead friend properly." "By stuffing the chimney full of fireworks." "By stuffing the chimney full of fireworks!" She agrees.

I leave her to chemically combust and find Wren in the student council office, filling out extremely interesting paperwork. He's buried behind piles of the stuff. I can barely see tufts of his blonde hair poking out. I reach into the paperwork pile and shove the two halves aside. Hundreds of them fall off the desk and to the floor. Papers drift through the air like snowflakes. Fat, boring-ass snowflakes. Wren looks up, face slack with shock.
"Whatcha doing?" I ask.
"Dividing up funding for the other clubs," He whispers, clearly distraught. A paper plops onto his head and slides off dejectedly. I'm respectful for three seconds.
"So anyway, I had this nightmare in which Jack was sexy and Kayla died.

For what it's worth, my dear, life is very long, and memories are very short.

Yes, well, now I am an extremely mature, responsible adult, and I can do things like discuss my trials and tribulations calmly." "Uh-huh," Gran says expectantly. "Such as making out. I did actually make out with someone." Gran waits. "I mean, I punched him before I made out with him. But it was a mature punch.

She smells like lavender and sadness – and that smells like ripped tissue paper and sun-dried salt.

I will pull your pancreas out through your nose and feed it back to you in a drip inserted into your anus is that clear?

Everything else can roast in Satan's left armpit!

Not everything with a vagina likes you, Dipshit

It's not a question of whether or not the apple falls far from the tree, because of course it doesn't." Her eyes fix in the distance. "It's whether or not the apple can grow taller than the tree.

There's no real value in being happy.
There's no value in something that doesn't last.

And he uses big words, so he's probably a huge nerd. To be fair, I do too, but that's because I'm fabulous. Jack has no such excuse.

Men like to categorize women." I curl my lip. "Into convenient little boxes like 'hot', or 'cute', or 'beautiful'. It's easy for them. It's never been easy for me."

　　"So this particular girl," the man leads. "She's none of those?"

　　"She's all of those," I say, a little too quickly for my own liking. "And more than those, and at the same time she's none of those. She is exactly herself, no more and no less.

I'm not the princess, I'm the goddamn dragon, and you can't seem to see that.

Did you know rats can leap over ten feet horizontally? And they always aim for the jugular.

Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I don't cry and the don't-cry times are somehow worse than the crying ones.

You, Mr. Bernard,". "Last time I checked they don't pay you to ogle teenage girls. They pay
you to teach. So start teaching."
Mr. Bernard jumps in his chair, clears his throat, and hurriedly goes to the whiteboard and starts writing equations. I salute Jack as I bow out the door.
"Have a great day, Jackoff."
"Try not to get molested, cow," He snaps.

Hairy monkeyballs!" I hiss. "Dogshit on a stick! Puke pancakes!"
A head pokes in. Wren, green eyes smiling, walks over to my bed.
"I knew you were awake. Who else spews such original and captivating swears?

My gut isn't wrong. Except when it has diarrhea. Then it is very, very wrong.

Sometimes, we can't do the things we want to do for ourselves. Sometimes we wait for someone else to do them. You can't always wait like that. You have to seek out change on your own.

I suppose when you want something badly enough, when you lose the thing most precious to you, people just become toys, puppets to move around to achieve your goals.

Did you have fun? How many boys did you make out with?" She asks. "Seventy. At least." "How many shots did you take?" "Fourteen. I let go of the wheel halfway home and Jesus drove me the rest of the way.

You are the sun, I try to say. You are the most important. You are the only light that's ever truly pierced my armor. You are the happiness and the spark and the one girl who never ran, who never cowered, who saw through my façade. I will never meet another girl like you, I will never want anyone as much as I want you. I don't deserve you.

The sadness will last forever. And I think he was right, but I also think he was very, very wrong. It doesn't last forever. Because we don't last forever.

There are approximately nine trillion cells in my body and every single one of them hates hiking. And walking. Just moving for extended periods of time in general, really. All nine trillion of us would rather be in bed.

Wren laughs when I kneel on the floor and try to do a breakdance head-spin. I end up taking down two people before Kayla kicks me in a friendly manner to get me to stop.

...nothing in life is simple. It's all utter maddening chaos and contradicting emotions.

Living is really weird. You never get used to it. But it happens anyway. And sometimes you find things that make it a little more comfortable, and you try to hold on to those things, and the tighter you hold, the faster they slip away.

It indebts me to them. I abhor the feeling of being indebted to anyone.

The words are holloew. But that's okay. Most things are, these days.

But this boy. This stupid, wonderful boy just might be worth it.

The waitress scuttles away, and I make a shooing motion at the old couple who're still glaring.
"Don't you have something to better to work on?" I hiss. "Like golfing or eating prunes or dying?"
The old lady looks shocked.
"Okay, sorry, not dying. But seriously, prunes are good for you.

Listen to me carefully, sweet girl. Don't live any other way than the way that makes you happy. If you aren't happy, leave your lover. If you aren't happy, quit the job. If you aren't happy, do more to make yourself happy. Because you are the only one who can make yourself happy.

This is going to sound slightly stalkerish, but I can't help but notice you've decapitated Jack Skellington and put him on your ears." "What can I say?" Yvette shrugs. "I like bones." "So do I, actually, because our skeletons support a massive interconnected muscular structure and without them we would be blobs of flesh. Also we wouldn't have middle fingers to flip people off with. Are you in Room 14B?" Yvette's eyes widen. "Yeah, so you're -" "MY ROOMMATE!" I screech. A passing guy winces and flips me off. I loudly inform him he has his skeleton to thank for that.

Flash 'em the sass before you flash 'em the ass.

You're the most confusing girl I've ever met." "Yeah." I smile. "Not sorry." "Good.

I've kept it inside this long. I can do it for a lot longer. Because I'm strong.