Jodi Picoult
Jodi Picoult
Jodi Lynn Picoultis an American author. She was awarded the New England Bookseller Award for fiction in 2003. Picoult currently has approximately 14 million copies of her books in print worldwide...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
Date of Birth19 May 1966
CountryUnited States of America
hurt cutting bleeding
It still hurts," she whispered. "Even when you're doing it for someone else, that doesn't stop your ribs from getting cracked, or your wrist swelling, or your cuts from bleeding.
hurt pain cutting
[I] don't think I was trying to kill myself. I just wanted to hurt, and understand exactly whay I was hurting. This made sense: you cut, you felt pain, period.
cutting opportunity bones
Missed opportunities were never superficial wounds; they cut straight to the bone.
cutting vision sometimes
What she hadn't realized was that sometimes when your vision was that sharp and true, it could cut you. That only if you'd felt such fullness could you really understand the ache of being empty.
cutting together pieces
Lately, I have been having nightmares, where I'm cut into so many pieces that there isn't enough of me to be put back together.
cutting blood ears
Do you know how, when you are on the verge of a breakdown, the world pounds in your ears; a rush of blood, of consequence? Do you now how it feels when the truth cuts your tongue to ribbons, and still you have to speak it?
cutting people needs
the relationship between people knot so easily, there needs to be a person skilled at working free the threads. Sometimes, though, the only way to extricate a tangle is to cut it out and start fresh.
cutting doctors feelings
I grew up in a household where we didn't really talk about our feelings, and where the only reason you went to a doctor was because you'd accidentally cut off a limb with a chain saw.
cutting thinking dvds
I think a persons life is supposed to be like a DVD. You can see the version everyone else sees, or you can choose the directors cut-the way he wanted you to see it, before everything else got in the way. There are menus, probably, so that you can start at the good spots and not have to relive the bad ones. You can measure your life by the number of scenes you’ve survived, or the minutes you’ve been stuck there. Probably, though, life is more like one of those dumb video surveillance tapes. Grainy, no matter how hard you stare at it. And looped: the same thing, over and over.
drawn eyes fingers kept polished rest scar
It was a little like a scar on a polished wooden table--you'd try to see the rest of the gleaming surface, but your eyes and your fingers would be drawn to the pitted part, the one thing that kept it from being perfect.
cliche crack crossed door expected fall fine heard line love mate moment open secret soul
There was a fine line between love and hate, you heard that cliche all the time. But no one told you that the moment you crossed it would be the one you least expected. You'd fall in love and crack open a secret door to let your soul mate in. You just never expected such closeness, one day, to feel like an intrusion.
admit bed beneath betrayal both deep digging felt matter mattress point shifted stone
Betrayal was a stone beneath the mattress of the bed you shared, something you felt digging into you no matter how you shifted position. What was the point of being able to forgive, when deep down, you both had to admit you'd never forget?
accident both difference fatal motions people victim
The thing that most people didn't understand...was that a rape victim and a victim of a fatal accident were both gone, forever. The difference was that the rape victim still had to go through the motions of being alive.
ability bottom inability punishment taking utter whatever whenever worst
At the very bottom of hell, there's no fire, no brimstone, just the utter inability to take action...Is taking away your ability to do whatever you want, whenever you want, the very worst punishment you can imagine?