Childhood is a long, long road, from which that dark whispering forest of death seems an impossible destination. — 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
