I wonder what it’s like for her, looking so much like a dead girl. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“We seem to have much in common with a girl who was killed for her ideas," he says.” — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
There are so many of us, so many girls. The world wants us for our wombs or our bodies, or it doesn't… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
It is the face of a girl who has seen the world, who realizes that it hates her, and who hates it… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
The sullen boy sitting before me is not my husband, and the girl he is fretting over isn't me, will never be… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
And everywhere girls, tumbling from trees like orange blossoms and hitting the earth with sickening thuds. They crack open. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
There's nothing here to say good-bye to. There's no dancing girl. No mischievous smile. She's gone, off with her sisters, broken free,… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
On tiptoes the redhead wouldn't even reach my shoulders; she is clearly too young to be a bride. And the willowy girl… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
I nod like I'm not at all unnerved by this new cold side to him. Not cruel like his father. Not warm… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
There is a silence so great that I can hear the ice crystals cracking and falling from eyelashes of girls who will… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“I watch the perfectly imperfect people several stories below, living their perfectly imperfect lives, and I think about how many decades will have to… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
You have a way of looking at things. You make it seem as though everything's going to be okay. I can't imagine a more… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
He says one word, nodding into the daylight. "Look." It's an astounding word. It's a gift. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“Rhine: It's okay that you miss her. She was the love of your life. Linden: Not the only love. It feels wrong to think… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“She strokes my cheeks with the side of her hand – a repetitive, wispy motion. Like little ghost kisses.” — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
I've done it all before, I tell myself, and I can do it again. Trust is the strongest weapon. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“Now isn't the time to be angry with my brother, but I suppose the anger I feel for him never goes away. I cover… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
I see an ocean that’s spilled out of a wineglass, its body clear and sparkling and folding over itself. I see a ribbon of… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
Maybe what frightens us about the edge isn't our fear of morality, but the thoughts it leads us to have. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“This isn’t living, what all of us are doing. We drive down long, dilapidated back roads.” — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
