So many versions of just one memory, and yet none of them were right or wrong. Instead, they were all pieces. Only when fitted together, edge to edge, could they even begin to tell the whole story. — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
“At times, I found myself questioning his very existence, even though I knew I had, in fact, spotted him, with my own eyes.” — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
You don't have to say it out loud. I already know why you like me.' 'You do, huh?' 'Yep.' He wrapped his arms around… — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain… — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
When you had to do something, you had to do it. And eventually, if you were lucky, you did it well. — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
I jammed my hand in my jacket pocket, bracing myself fo the next hit, and fel something. Something grainy and samll, sticking to the… — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
I had no illusions about love anymore. It came, it went, it left casualties or it didn't. People weren't meant to be together forever,… — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
“But maybe that isn't so bad. You can't love anyone that way more than once in a lifetime. It's too hard and it hurts… — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
This was just one night, one chance to vary and see where it took me. The fireflies were probably already out: maybe it wasn’t… — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
“For me, however, it was a mix of the two, this constant push and pull. I loved it here. But I'd been in that… — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
I think whenever a writer is really enjoying themselves and liking what they are doing, that shows on the page. — Sarah Dessen Copy Share Image
