Amanda Werlein > Amanda's Quotes

“I love you like I love the sea. And I’m ok with drowning.”
― pleasefindthis, I Wrote This for You and Only You

“I sometimes wonder what you're thinking of me, then I remember that you're probably wondering what I think of you, which makes me wonder if any of us ever think of ourselves.

Or if we think of nothing else.”
― pleasefindthis, I Wrote This for You and Only You

“Friday’s always wasted and she and Saturday hold each other tightly until their delirium fades.”
― pleasefindthis, I Wrote This For You

“You must never behave as if your life belongs to a man. Do you hear me?” Aunty Ifeka said. “Your life belongs to you and you alone.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“There are some things that are so unforgivable that they make other things easily forgivable.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“You can't write a script in your mind and then force yourself to follow it. You have to let yourself be.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“And it's wrong of you to think that love leaves room for nothing else. It's possible to love something and still condescend to it.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“I knew what I wanted to run to. But it didn’t exist, so I didn’t leave.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“Don’t see it as forgiving him. See it as allowing yourself to be happy. What will you do with the misery you have chosen? Will you eat misery?”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“The more civilians you bomb, the more resistance you grow.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“Olanna felt the slow sadness of missing a person who was still there.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“He realized that what he wanted most of all, with her, was time.”
― Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun

“The truth is what I make it. I could set this world on fire and call it rain.”
― Victoria Aveyard, Red Queen

“Do not be angry with the rain; it simply does not know how to fall upwards.”
― Vladimir Nabokov

“Now I'll never see him again, and maybe it's a good thing. He walked out of my life last night for once and for all. I know with sickening certainty that it's the end. There were just those two dates we had, and the time he came over with the boys, and tonight. Yet I liked him too much - - - way too much, and I ripped him out of my heart so it wouldn't get to hurt me more than it did. Oh, he's magnetic, he's charming; you could fall into his eyes. Let's face it: his sex appeal was unbearably strong. I wanted to know him - - - the thoughts, the ideas behind the handsome, confident, wise-cracking mask. "I've changed," he told me. "You would have liked me three years ago. Now I'm a wiseguy." We sat together for a few hours on the porch, talking, and staring at nothing. Then the friction increased, centered. His nearness was electric in itself. "Can't you see," he said. "I want to kiss you." So he kissed me, hungrily, his eyes shut, his hand warm, curved burning into my stomach. "I wish I hated you," I said. "Why did you come?" "Why? I wanted your company. Alby and Pete were going to the ball game, and I couldn't see that. Warrie and Jerry were going drinking; couldn't see that either." It was past eleven; I walked to the door with him and stepped outside into the cool August night. "Come here," he said. "I'll whisper something: I like you, but not too much. I don't want to like anybody too much." Then it hit me and I just blurted, "I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them." He was definite, "Nobody knows me." So that was it; the end. "Goodbye for good, then," I said. He looked hard at me, a smile twisting his mouth, "You lucky kid; you don't know how lucky you are." I was crying quietly, my face contorted. "Stop it!" The words came like knife thrusts, and then gentleness, "In case I don't see you, have a nice time at Smith." "Have a hell of a nice life," I said. And he walked off down the path with his jaunty, independent stride. And I stood there where he left me, tremulous with love and longing, weeping in the dark. That night it was hard to get to sleep.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“Because I’m emotionally immature, I’d prefer letting go of you early and always remembering you as you were, rather than hanging on and letting things develop and blossom and then eventually decay.”
― Jarod Kintz, At even one penny, this book would be overpriced. In fact, free is too expensive, because you'd still waste time by reading it.