en

E. Lockhart

  • Little Winghas quoted2 years ago
    I do want people to feel sorry for me. I do.

    And then I don’t.

    I do.

    And then I don’t.
  • Little Winghas quoted2 years ago
    “I know no one’s beating me,” I say, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “I know I have plenty of money and a good education. Food on the table. I’m not dying of cancer. Lots of people have it much worse than I. And I do know I was lucky to go to Europe. I shouldn’t complain about it or be ungrateful.”
  • Little Winghas quoted2 years ago
    “Half the time I hate myself for all the things I’ve done,” says Gat. “But the thing that makes me really messed up is the contradiction: when I’m not hating myself, I feel righteous and victimized. Like the world is so unfair.”
  • Little Winghas quoted2 years ago
    “I’m more than okay there, I’m fantastic. I love Windemere because you built it specially for Mummy. I want to raise my own children there and my children’s children. You are so excellent, Granddad. You are the patriarch and I revere you. I am so glad I am a Sinclair. This is the best family in America.”
  • Little Winghas quoted2 years ago
    I want to die, sometimes, my head hurts so much. I keep writing you all my brightest thoughts but I never say the dark ones, even though I think them all the time. So I am saying them now. Even if you do not answer, I will know somebody heard them, and that, at least, is something
  • Sumi Ghas quotedlast year
    Silence is a protective coating over pain.”
  • Sumi Ghas quotedlast year
    And here, I have killed them.
  • b1516978116has quotedlast year
    It doesn’t matter if one of us is desperately, desperately in love.

    So much

    in love

    that equally desperate measures

    must be taken.

    We are Sinclairs.

    No one is needy.

    No one is wrong.
  • ainelcullinanhas quoted8 months ago
    Then he pulled out a handgun and shot me in the chest.
  • blackfire bambihas quotedlast year
    Wished she could undo everything that had happened.

    If only she could go back in time, Jule felt, she would be a better person. Or a different person. She would be more herself. Or maybe less herself. She didn’t know which, because she didn’t any longer know what shape her own self was, or whether there was really no Jule at all, but only a series of selves she presented for different contexts.

    Were all people like that, with no true self?

    Or was it only Jule?
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