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
lying book once-upon-a-time
Just so you know, when they say "once upon a time"....they're lying. It's not once upon a time. Its not even twice upon a time. It's hundreds of times, over and over, every time someone opens up the pages of this dusty old book.
rocks two once-upon-a-time
It is so strange, to encounter an ex. It's as if you're in a foreign film, and what you're saying face-to-face has nothing to do with the subtitles flowing beneath you. We are so careful not to touch, although once upon a time, I slept plastered to him in our bed, like lichen on a rock. We are two strangers who knows every shameful secret, every hidden freckle, every fatal flaw in each other.
thinking firsts first-time
And I think, not for the first time, that what is immoral is not always wrong.
lying once-upon-a-time between-the-lines
Just so you know, when they say "Once upon a time” . . . they’re lying
time grief heart
There should be a statute of limitation on grief. A rulebook that says it is all right to wake up crying, but only for a month. That after 42 days you will no longer turn with your heart racing, certain you have heard her call out your name. That there will be no fine imposed if you feel the need to clean out her desk; take down her artwork from the refrigerator; turn over a school portrait as you pass - if only because it cuts you fresh again to see it. That it's okay to measure the time she has been gone, the way we once measured her birthdays.
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?
capable falling love
Could you really love someone who was capable of falling in love with someone else?
applaud authors books coming community giving librarians libraries library people serious unsure
I think libraries are an important part of the community. If it wasn't for librarians recommending our books to people coming into the library unsure of what to read, where would authors be? I really applaud this community for being so serious about giving to their libraries.
admit changed mean
Just because a person didn't admit that something had changed didn't mean it hadn't happened.
dry eventually hours involved natural selection since speaking talked wondered
She wondered how many hours it had been since she'd talked out loud. If you didn't use your voice, ever, would it eventually shrivel up and dry away? Was there a natural selection involved in not speaking up?