Sarah Dessen
Sarah Dessen
Sarah Dessenis an American writer who lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth6 June 1970
CityEvanston, IL
who-i-am might way
I've always known who I am. I might not work perfectly, or be like them, but that's okay. I know I work in my own way.
views glasses broken
I am the middle sister. The one in between. Not oldest, not youngest, not boldest, not nicest. I am the shade of gray, the glass half empty or full, depending on your view. In my life, there has been little that I have done first or better than the one preceding or following me. Of all of us, though, I am the only one who has been broken.
principles theory ifs
That was the thing about being alone, in theory or in principle. Whatever happened-good, bad, or anywhere in between-it was always, if nothing else, all your own.
voice trying attention
I understood now. This voice, the one that had been trying to get my attention all this time, calling out to me, begging me to hear it -- it wan't Will's. It was mine.
safe arms would-be
I'd been convinced I was on the outside, but really, I'd always been within arm's reach. All I had to do was ask, and I, too, would be easily brought back, surrounded and immersed, finding myself safe, somewhere in between.
moving-on break-up stay-strong
All I'd ever wanted was to forget. but even when I thought I had, pieces had kept emerging, like bits of wood floating up to the surface that only hint at the shipwreck below.
thinking wanted loses
Right now, though, I wanted not to think forward or backward, but only to lose myself in the words.
forever want ifs
If this was my forever, I wouldn't want to spend it here.
pieces like-you seeing
So while it seemed like you were seeing everything, you really weren't. Just bits and pieces that looked like a whole.
crazy love-you sister-love
And always remember how much your crazy sister loves you.
memories together pieces
So many versions of just one memory, and yet none of them were right or wrong. Instead, they were all pieces. Only when fitted together, edge to edge, could they even begin to tell the whole story.
passing-by glances passings
I thought again how you could never really know what you were seeing with just a glance, in motion, passing by. Good or bad, right or wrong. There was always so much more.
past way ends
The past did affect the present and the future, in ways you could see and a million ones you couldn't. Time wasn't a thing you could divide easily; there was no defined middle or beginning or end. I could pretend to leave the past behind, but it would not leave me.
girl men training
All the bitchy girls in the world are just a training ground for what men can do to you.