Helen Oyeyemi
Helen Oyeyemi
Helen Olajumoke Oyeyemiis a British novelist...
NationalityBritish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth10 December 1984
waiting unhappy matter
It occurred to me that I was unhappy. And it didn’t feel so very terrible. No urgency, nothing. I could slip out of my life on a slow wave like this—it didn’t matter. I don’t have to be happy. All I have to do is hold on to something and wait.
girl heart cutting
The girl was lighter without her heart. She danced barefoot on the hot roads, and her feet were not cut by the glass or stones that studded her way. She spoke to the dead whenever they visited her. She tried to be kind, but they realised that they no longer had anything in common with her, and she realised it, too. So they went their separate ways.
And she walked away, and she walked away, and that was that, and that was that.
beautiful wise princess
And without further argument he unsheathed the sword and cleaved Miss Foxe's head from her neck. He knew what was supposed to happen. He knew that this awkward, whispering creature before him should now transform into a princess - dazzlingly beautiful, free, and made wise by her hardship. That is not what happened.
finding-yourself spirit should
If you should find yourself in a place that is indifferent to you and there is someone there that your spirit stretches to, then that person is kin.
anger house hot
This was a little house, with a ceiling that kept getting higher and higher, a hot place with no windows. This was anger.
mother worry people
Imagine having a mother who worries that you read too much. The question is, what is it that's supposed to happen to people who read too much? How can you tell when someone's crossed the line.
mirrors years trustworthy
Nobody ever warned me about mirrors, so for many years I was fond of them, and believed them to be trustworthy. . .
book thinking people
Solitary people, these book lovers. I think it's swell that there are people you don't have to worry about when you don't see them for a long time, you don't have to wonder what they do, how they're getting along with themselves. You just know that they're all right, and probably doing something they like.
people return villain
You don’t return people’s smiles—it’s perfectly clear to you that people can smile and smile and still be villains.
snow made bigs
Wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. The poem tells me it’s no big deal that I’m not like Snow. I can be another thing; I’m meant to be another thing.
disappointment heart storm
However awful the storm of my disappointment, it's a response that belongs to me. It's my heart, after all. My territory, my kingdom. And since I'm the only one with the authority to surrender it, I can also take it back.
butterfly dark thinking
Once you let people know anything about what you think, that's it, you're dead. Then they'll be jumping about in your mind, taking things out, holding them up to the light and killing them, yes, killing them, because thoughts are supposed to stay and grow in quiet, dark places, like butterflies in cocoons.
powerful heart tough
Her heart was heavy because it was open, and so things filled it, and so things rushed out of it, but still the heart kept beating, tough and frighteningly powerful and meaning to shrug off the rest of her and continue on its own.