But you can build a future out of anything. A scrap, a flicker. The desire to go forward, slowly, one foot at… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
This is the language of the world before—a world of chaos and confusion and happiness and despair—before the blitz turned streets to… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
I close my eyes. An image flashes—emerging from the van with Julian after our escape from New York City; believing, in that… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
Most things, even the greatest movements on earth, have their beginnings in something small. An earthquake that shatters a city might begin… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
All of you, wherever you are: in your spiny cities, or your one-bump towns. Find it, the hard stuff, the links of… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
He Is looking at me through the smoke, across the fence. He never takes his eyes off me. His hair Is a… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
But for now, the future, like the past, means nothing. For now, there is only a homestead built of trash and scraps,… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
They haven't killed us yet," I say, and I imagine that one day I will fly a plane over Portland, over Rochester,… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
I know the rules. I've been living here longer than you have." He cracks a smile then. He nudges me back. "Hardly."… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
“My aunt Carol hasn’t heard her say a word in the whole six years and three months of Grace’s life—not a single syllable. Carol… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
We'll walk together holding hands, and kiss in broad daylight, and love each other as much as we want to, and no one will… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
“It seem absurd to me that they don't know, haven't felt any change or tremor, even as my life has been completely turned upside… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
“At least when I'm sleeping I can dream myself back to Alex, can dream myself into a different world.” — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
People are like ants: Just a few of them give all the orders. And most of them spend their lives getting squashed. — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
Summer explodes into Portland. In early June the heat was there but not the color--the green were still pale and tentative, the morning had… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
I wonder if it's ever really possible to know the truth about someone else, or if the best we can do is just stumble… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
“Julian is somewhere among those lights, in that blur of people and buildings. I wonder whether he's scared. I wonder whether he's thinking of… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
A room full of words that are nearly the truth but not quite, each note fluttering off the steam of its rose like a… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
“She’s the kind of person who makes you feel drunk just by being around her, like suddenly the world’s edges are dulled and all… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
