Can a dream be wrong? Aren't dreams God's way of telling you things? Ellen Hopkins More Quotes by Ellen Hopkins More Quotes From Ellen Hopkins Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound. Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light. Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeapordy. Pray you could somehow stop uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain. Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest. Ellen Hopkins cuttingpainmemories Imperfections create character. Ellen Hopkins imperfectioncharacter Words have power. The power to soothe. The power to skewer someone through the heart. The power to render someone speechless. Ellen Hopkins speechlessheart Torch every book. Burn every page. Char every word to ash. Ideas are incombustible. And therein lies your real fear. Ellen Hopkins realbooklying Me? Beautiful? I'm plain as cardboard. That may be how you see yourself, but the rest of the world would be hard to agree. You shine brighter than the Milky Way. Now there are those who might try to take that from you, but you don't have to give it away. Keep on shining Pattyn. And when the right young man comes along, he'll love you all the more for giftin' this sad planet with your light. Ellen Hopkins love-youbeautifulmen Religion is for followers... Followers and puppets. Ellen Hopkins puppetsfollowers Funny thing about the monster. The worse he treats you, the more you love him. Ellen Hopkins funny-thingstreatsmonsters She's incredible, not that she's perfect. But you once said imperfections create character. Ellen Hopkins incrediblesperfectcharacter Being In Love Means hard questions. Will I? Won't I? Should I? Could I? Yes? No? You? Me? There is no me without you. Is there a you without me? And if were truly one. how will I breathe when circomstance pries us apart? You are my oxygen. my substance, the blood inside my veins. When we touch, you are my skin. hold all my joy inside of you. When you go, I wither. Ellen Hopkins being-in-loveoxygenmean Then I said it. He said it too. I love you. And everything that went before meant nothing. Ellen Hopkins saidlove-you I can't change what has happened in the past, Kaeleigh. I can only promise to make the future better. Ellen Hopkins cant-changepastpromise And almost instantly, Daddy made everything seem just fine. Even when it wasn't. Ellen Hopkins finedaddymade Disappointment Can do a couple things. It can drop you into a giant sucking sinkhole of depression, a place you have to fight to climb out of. Or it can trigger an epic mania to overcome the odds and transform failure into success. Say you swing as high as the chains will take you because you seek the thrill of flight, and on the up- kick, you lose your seat. Injury is likely. But if you worry about falling down, and never chance "up," the sky will remain forever out of reach. Ellen Hopkins coupledisappointmentfall I want to know what it means to be in love. But in my dictionary 'in love' is indefinable. Ellen Hopkins wantlove-ismean Crank, You See isn't any ordinary monster. It's like a giant octopus, weaving its tentacles not just around you, but through you, squeezing not hard enough to kill you, but enough to keep you from reeling until you try to get away. Try, and you hunger for it grasping clutch, the way its tendrils prop you up, your need intensifying exponentially every minute you refuse to admit its being (p.469) Ellen Hopkins octopusmonsterstrying Loss is loss. Doesn't take death to create it. Ellen Hopkins losslife Freedom is a double-edged ideal, because true freedom comes without the protection of laws that also enslave us by defining us--female, male; Christian, Islamic; good, evil. All at the whim of a frail minority. Ellen Hopkins islamicchristianlaw I don't need more pain in my life. Why did I invite it in? Do I have to feel pain to believe I feel anything at all? Ellen Hopkins painbelieveneeds you fly until you crash two days two nights no sleep, no food, come down off the monster YOU CRASH REAL HARD Ellen Hopkins realsleepnight Without poetry, stories would be told in sepia. Ellen Hopkins would-bestories
