Top 25 Elana K. Arnold Quotes of All time - Quotes.Pub

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Marissa keeps herself entertained by rating the guys that cruise by. She has her own rating scale: each guy is assigned a letter of the alphabet. But it isn’t A to Z order – Marissa must have like a touch of autism or something, because she has this theory that some letters are sexier than others.

There is no such thing as unconditional love,” my mother told me. “I could stop loving you at any time.

She was of the sun and from the sun. She was not a plaything of this little man.

I’m more than any of the parts of me – I am more than my good parts, and more than my bad ones. I am more than my mistakes. I am more than my memories. I will say these words again and again, like an anthem, like a prayer, until I believe them.

Ama lost connection to the places where her body intersected with the world: where her feet touched the ground, where her head existed in relation to the rest of the room.

We can believe things that are true, and we can believe things that are not true. Which is more important – what is true, or what we believe?

You see, Ama, it is for men to create. It is for men to decide. It is for men to speak. It is your place to listen, and follow, and gestate. And those are no small things! For without women to listen, how would the men’s words be heard? Without your fertile womb, how could my son hope to grow? You are important, Ama. Desperately important. But do not overreach.

Maybe they’re not “real” orgasms, since they’re always when I’m alone. It’s like that question: If a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it, does it make a sound? Probably solo orgasms don’t count if a boy isn’t there to witness them. To cause them.

Have you ever had the feeling that you aren’t the main character in the story of your life? That you fill a more minor role- supporting cast, maybe, comic relief, or even antagonist.

A brain will lie to the body, even when the body is the brain’s only hope.

I made you beautiful,” Emory said again, again. “You keep saying that,” Ama answered. “But I did not ask for your beauty. I made beauty all on my own. I did not need you then.

Dusk was the most colorful hour, with the horizon set on fire by the breath of the yawning sun.

Perhaps the key to being content, even without a past, is to keep your eyes firmly on the present moment, and looking no further than what was most probably around just the very next bend – tonight, a fire – and not anticipating beyond that, or allowing oneself to cast backward, into the great black void of before.

It’s not new, our valuation of young female people for how they can serve, satisfy, and satiate. Our girls are both the platter and the meal, and we eat them up – we eat their meat, we lap up their sweetness, we covet and control and consume.

That’s who unconditional love is for – dogs and their masters, fools and their gods.

The world is not kind to women who cry wolf. It never has been.

Without you,” Ama said, “I would be free.

It is not your job to make boys happy.

One should not make a pet out of a wild beast,” Ama said. She mounted Emory, knelt over him, and, ignoring his batting, bloodied hands, she reached into his chest, pulled open his mortal wound, and extracted his still-beating heart. It pulsed in her palm, and Ama bit into it like a ripe plum.

Secrets, like memories, do not disappear just because they are buried by snow or time or distance.

It’s not that we need more wolf hunters,” you say. “It’s that we need men to stop becoming wolves.

That is the way of being a woman, to carve away at herself, to fit herself to the task, but, also, to be able to carve herself in a different way, when a different shape is needed.

You can’t make people love you. Love isn’t something you earn, or something you deserve. Love just is. Or it isn’t. Anyway, there are more important things than love. Like service. Being of service. With love, you’re waiting around for someone to give it to you. But service, that’s something you give. And you don’t have to give it just to people you love. It doesn’t matter who you serve. It’s the serving that matters.

She was too much and not enough, both in the same instant. Too big and too small; too bright and too dull; too affectionate and not affectionate enough.

I’ll walk as fast as I want, and I will take breaks whenever I feel like it. There is no one to follow, no one to keep up with. There’s just me and this one beautiful day, this one moment, right here, now.