Deneille

“Then he pulled out a handgun and shot me in the chest. I was standing on the lawn and I fell. The bullet hole opened wide and my heart rolled out of my rib cage and down into a flower bed. Blood gushed rhythmically from my open wound,
then from my eyes,
my ears,
my mouth.
It tasted like salt and failure. The bright red shame of being unloved soaked the grass in front of our house, the bricks of the path, the steps of the porch. My heart spasmed among the peonies like a trout.”
― E. Lockhart, We Were Liars

“He was contemplation and enthusiasm. Ambition and strong coffee. I could have looked at him forever.”
― E. Lockhart, We Were Liars

“The island is ours. Here, in some way, we are young forever.”
― E. Lockhart, We Were Liars

“We are liars. We are beautiful and privileged. We are cracked and broken.”
― E. Lockhart, We Were Liars