Yasmin > Yasmin's Quotes

“Underneath this veneer of slightly crazy and mildly socially retarded, I'm a complete disaster.”
― Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl

“Not everyone gets a happily every after. Life is real and sometimes it's ugly and you just have to learn how to cope.”
― Colleen Hoover, Hopeless

“So many things become beautiful when you really look.”
― Lauren Oliver, Before I Fall

“Thomas Edison's last words were "It's very beautiful over there". I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.”
― John Green, Looking for Alaska

“There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.”
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

“What a slut time is. She screws everybody.”
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

“What is the point of being alive if you don't at least try to do something remarkable?”
― John Green, An Abundance of Katherines

“So you keep your ocean, I'll take the Lake.”
― Colleen Hoover, Slammed

“Push your boundaries, that's what they're there for.”
― Colleen Hoover, Slammed

“Imperfections define perfection”
― Colleen Hoover, Slammed

“BLUE SWEATER

Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...

Do you hear that?
That's the sound of my heart beating...

Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...

Do you hear that? That's the sound of your heart beating.

It was the first day of October. I was wearing my blue sweater, you know the one I bought at Dillard’s? The one with a double knitted hem and holes in the ends of the sleeves that I could poke my thumbs through when it was cold but I didn't feel like wearing gloves? It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look like reflections of the stars on the ocean.
You promised to love me forever that night...
and boy
did you
ever!

It was the first day of December this time. I was wearing my blue sweater, you know the one I bought at Dillard’s? The one with a double knitted hem and holes in the ends of the sleeves that I could poke my thumbs through when it was cold but I didn't feel like wearing gloves? It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look like reflections of the stars on the ocean.
I told you I was three weeks late
You said it was fate.
You promised to love me forever that night...
and boy
did you
ever!

It was the first day of May. I was wearing my blue sweater, although this time the double stitched hem was worn
and the strength of each thread tested as they were pulled tight against my growing belly. You know the one. The same one I bought at Dillard’s? The one with holes in the ends of the
sleeves that I could poke my thumbs through when it was cold but I didn't feel like wearing gloves? It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look like reflections of the stars on the
ocean.

The SAME sweater you RIPPED off of my body as you shoved me to the
floor,
calling me a whore ,
telling me
you didn't love me
anymore.

Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...

Do you hear that? That's the sound of my heart beating.

Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...
Bom Bom...

Do you hear that? That's the sound of your heart
beating.

(There is a long silence as she clasps her hands to her stomach, tears streaming down her face)

Do you hear that? Of course you don't. That's the silence
of my womb.

Because you
RIPPED
OFF
MY
SWEATER!”
― Colleen Hoover, Slammed

“Well, you would realize…
Like i eventually realized…
That the good things about her?
All the beautiful?
It’s not real.
It’s fake.
So you keep your ocean,
I’ll take the lake.”
― Colleen Hoover, Point of Retreat

“Butterfly you.”
― Colleen Hoover, Point of Retreat

“There will be other lives.
There will be other lives for nervous boys with sweaty palms, for bittersweet fumblings in the backseats of cars, for caps and gowns in royal blue and crimson, for mothers clasping pretty pearl necklaces around daughters' unlined necks, for your full name read aloud in an auditorium, for brand-new suitcases transporting you to strange new people in strange new lands.
And there will be other lives for unpaid debts, for one-night stands, for Prague and Paris, for painful shoes with pointy toes, for indecision and revisions.
And there will be other lives for fathers walking daughters down aisles.
And there will be other lives for sweet babies with skin like milk.
And there will be other lives for a man you don't recognize, for a face in a mirror that is no longer yours, for the funerals of intimates, for shrinking, for teeth that fall out, for hair on your chin, for forgetting everything. Everything.
Oh, there are so many lives. How we wish we could live them concurrently instead of one by one by one. We could select the best pieces of each, stringing them together like a strand of pearls. But that's not how it works. A human's life is a beautiful mess.”
― Gabrielle Zevin, Elsewhere

“Write poorly.
Suck.
Write Awful.
Terribly.
Frightfully.
Don’t care.
Turn off the inner editor.
Let yourself write.
Let it flow.
Let yourself fail.
Do something crazy.
Write 50,000 words in the month of November.
I did it.
It was fun.
It was insane.
It was 1,667 words per day.
It was possible, but you have to turn off the inner critic off completely.
Just write.
Quickly.
In bursts.
With joy.
If you can’t write, run away.
Come back.
Write again.
Writing is like anything else.
You won’t get good at it immediately.
It’s a craft.
You have to keep getting better.
You don’t get to Juilliard unless you practice.
You want to get to Carnegie Hall?
Practice. Practice. Practice ..or give them a lot of money.
Like anything else it takes 10,000 hours to get to mastery.
Just like Malcolm Gladwell says.
So write.
Fail.
Get your thoughts down.
Let it rest.
Let is marinate.
Then edit, but don’t edit as you type.
That just slows the brain down.
Find a daily practice.
For me it’s blogging.
It’s fun.
The more you write the easier it gets.
The more it is a flow, the less a worry.
It’s not for school, it’s not for a grade, it’s just to get your thoughts out there.
You know they want to come out.
So keep at it.
Make it a practice.
Write poorly.
Write awfully.
Write with abandon and it may end up being really really good.”
― Colleen Hoover

“The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can't achieve it.”
― Jordan Belfort

“It wasn't until I started reading and found books they wouldn't let us read in school that I discovered you could be insane and happy and have a good life without being like everybody else.”
― John Waters

“For you, a thousand times over”
― Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

“And also don’t forget, the reason opportunity is often missed is that it usually comes disguised as hard work.”
― Clifford Irving, Trial

“I think online friends often know you the best.”
― Jacquelyn Middleton, London Belongs to Me

“If I'm not a writer, who am I?”
― Jacquelyn Middleton, London Belongs to Me

“I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.”
― Banksy

“We feel most alive when we are closest to death.”
― Nenia Campbell, Terrorscape