I have an impulse to write all over the orange walls- I need an alphabet of endings ripped out of books, of hands pulled off of clocks, of cold stones, of shoes filled with nothing but wind. — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
And then he smiles, and in all the places around the globe where it's night, day breaks. — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
Or maybe a person is just made up of a lot of peopleMaybe we’re accumulating these new selves all the time. Hauling them in… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
“How can people die when you’re in a fight with them? When you’re smack in the middle of hating them? When absolutely nothing between… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes when the grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe. — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
... if you're someone who knows the worst thing can happen at any time, aren't you also someone who knows the best thing can… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
“I want my sister. I want to hurl a building at God. I take a breath and exhale with enough force to blow the… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes part of you, step for step, breath for breath. — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
“Una y otra vez, día tras día, me esforcé por ser vista. Solo quería que me prestara atención, no que me dejara tirada en… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
grief is a house where the chairs have forgotten how to hold us the mirrors how to reflect us the walls how to contain… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
He murmers into my hair, "Forget what I said earlier, let's stick with this, I might not survive anything more." I laugh. Then he… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
“Listen to me. It takes a lot of courage to be true to yourself, true to your heart. You always have been very brave… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
