I want to die in my own way. It's my illness, my death, my choice. This is what saying yes means. Jenny Downham More Quotes by Jenny Downham More Quotes From Jenny Downham I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful. Jenny Downham wish beautiful boys It was strange how words meant something when they came out of your mouth. Inside your head they were safe and silent, but once they were outside, people grabbed hold of them. Jenny Downham safe mouths people I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you. Jenny Downham sad sorry love-you We make patterns, we share moments. Jenny Downham patterns moments share All I know is that I have two choices – stay wrapped in blankets and get on with dying, or get the list back together and get on with living. Jenny Downham choices together two I'm me and you're you, and all of them out there are them. And we're all so different and equally unimportant. Jenny Downham unimportant different It's all right, Tessa, you can go. We love you. You can go now.' 'Why are you saying that?' 'She might need permission to die, Cal.' 'I don't want her to. She doesn't have my permission. Jenny Downham want love-you needs a little bird moves a mountain of sand one grain at a time it picks up one grain every million years and when the mountain has been moved the bird puts it all back again and that's how long eternity is and that's a very long time to be dead Jenny Downham long years moving Nurses never tell you what they know. They're hired for their cheeriness and the thickness of their hair. They need to look alive and healthy, to give the patients something to aim for. Jenny Downham nurse hair giving There's a terrible stillness. I notice a small tear in the wallpaper above her shoulder. I notice finger marks grimed on the light switch. Somewhere down in the house, a door opens and shuts. As Zoey turns to face me, I realize that life is made up of a series of moments, each one a journey to the end. Jenny Downham light journey doors Perhaps I'm dead. Perhaps this is all it will be. The living will carry on in their world – touching, walking. And I'll continue in this empty world, tapping soundlessly on the glass between us. Jenny Downham touching glasses world Bye, Tess. haunt me if you like. I don't mind. Jenny Downham tess mind bye Help me, Mikey, she wanted to say. I’m afraid. More afraid than you’d ever believe.’ And he’d take her hand and they’d fly across the rooftops and up into space and sit on some planet and watch a double sunrise or maybe a star being born or some other event that no human had ever seen, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. And she’d tell him everything. Jenny Downham stars believe hands She'd never in her whole life bunked school, smoked dope, or kissed a boy whose name she didn't know, and yet in the last few days, she'd done all these things. Jenny Downham dope boys school But all that is warm will go cold. My ears will fall off and my eyes will melt. My mouth will be clamped shut. My lips will turn to glue. ...No taste or smell or touch or sound.Nothing to look at. Total emptiness for ever. Jenny Downham smell eye fall Death straps me to the hospital bed, claws its way onto my chest and sits there.I didn't know it would hurt this much. I didn't know that everything good that's ever happened in my life would be emptied out by it. Jenny Downham cancer bed hurt I've always wanted to be a cat. Warm and domesticated when you want to be, wild when you don't. Jenny Downham cat want life I lean back on the pillows and look at the corners of the room. When I was a kid, I always wanted to live on the ceiling - it looked so clean and uncluttered, like the top of a cake. Jenny Downham cake ceilings kids That slow smile again. I love that smile! DId I think he was ugly just now? No, his face is transformed. Jenny Downham ugly faces thinking Every seven years our bodies change, every cell. Every seven years, we disappear. Jenny Downham cells body years
