Best 183 quotes of Sarah Addison Allen on MyQuotes

Adolescence is like having only enough light to see the step directly in front of you.

After you finish a book, the story still goes on in your mind. You can never change the beginning. But you can always change the end.

all we have is our deep and abiding love for each other. We can't loose that or we loose ourselves. If we don't help each other, who will?

Always make your needs and expectations known,she used to say. That way no one gets hurt.

...a sad sort of vulnerability was wafting from her, making the night smell like maple syrup.

Because he knew the best way to get what he wanted was to break down what made us strongest. And our friendships were what made us strong.

Blank-slate friendships were thin and temperamental. She knew that. There was no history there to cement people together, for better or worse.

Books can be possessive, can't they? You're walking around in a bookstore and a certain one will jump out at you, like it had moved there on its own, just to get your attention. Sometimes what's inside will change your life, but sometimes you don't even have to read it. Sometimes it's a comfort just to have a book around. Many of these books haven't even had their spines cracked. 'Why do you buy books you don't even read?' our daughter asks us. That's like asking someone who lives alone why they bought a cat. For company, of course.

But one thing she [Rachel] did believe in was love. She believed that you could smell it, that you could taste it, that it could change the entire course of your life.

But surprises were nothing new to her. Like opening a can of mushroom soup and finding tomato instead; be grateful and eat it anyway.

But that would leave Paxton to fend for herself, and the last thing any woman wanted in this kind of situation was to look around and see all the people who could help her doing nothing.

Children always know when their mothers are crazy - they just never admit it, not out loud, to anyone.

Coffee, she'd discovered, was tied to all sorts of memories, different for each person. Sunday mornings, friendly get-togethers, a favorite grandfather long since gone, the AA meeting that saved their life. Coffee meant something to people. Most found their lives were miserable without it. Coffee was a lot like love that way. And because Rachel believed in love, she believed in coffee, too.

Crystalline swirls of sugar and flour still lingered in the air like kite tails.

Don't let anyone see your vulnerable spots. Once they knew how to hurt you, they would do it again and again.

Embarrassment felt a lot like eating chili peppers. It burned in the back of your throat and there was nothing you could do to make it go away. You just had to take it, suffer from it, until it eased off.

Everything had felt so precarious since her mother's death, like she was walking on a bridge made of paper.

Everything was quiet, a strange sort of quiet that felt like an unfinished sentence.

Fate never promises to tell you everything up front. You aren't always shown the path in life you're supposed to take. But if there was one thing she'd learned in the past few weeks, it was that sometimes, when you're really lucky, you meet someone with a map.

First frost meant letting go, so it was always reason to celebrate.

For stubborn souls like Lisette, death was easier than the courage it took to actually change your life.

He'd always been fascinated by her, drawn to her the way curious people are always drawn to things they don't understand.

He didn't think he belonged here, so she was making him face some uncomfortable facts. People adapt. People change. You can grow where you're planted.

He had a smug smile on his lips like he knew, even in his sleep, that women all around him were dying from love because he'd taken their hearts and hidden them where they'd never find them.

He might be tall enough to see into tomorrow, but he hadn’t looked there in a long, long time. He’d forgotten how bright it was. So bright he could hardly stand it.

He reached for her and kissed her. It was all at once passionate, as if there was too much in him to contain. He was immediately swept up in it. It took no effort, the difference between swimming on your own and being washed away in a flood.

He reached out and pushed some hair behind her ears. The gesture was tender, but it hit her with an unexpected force, like when you're in the ocean and a wave hits you. It's so soft and coll that it surprised you that it has such strength.

Her friendship . . . still existed, as if it was a living, breathing thing, something that came to life the moment it happened and didn't just go away because they no longer acknowledged it.

Her grandmother used to tell her that a pink sky meant someone in the distance had just fallen in love . . . .

Her life was monotonous, but it kept her out of trouble. . . . This, her father would say, was called being an adult.

He used to believe good things happened in this kind of weather.

How can we know the true meaning of charity if we don't even know how to help those closest to us?

How could someone with a life this full feel this empty?

If a man has so much heat he burns your skin when he touches you, he's the devil. Run away

If anyone had been paying attention to the signs, they would have realized that air turns white when things are about to change, that paper cuts mean there's more to what's written on the page than meets the eye, and that birds are always out to protect you from things you don't see.

I just don't know where home is. There's this promise of happiness out there. I know it. I even feel it sometimes. But it's like chasing the moon - just when I think I have it, it disappears into the horizon. I grieve and try to move on, but then the damn thing comes back the next night, giving me hope of catching it all over again.

I'll give you one day at a time, Claire. But remember, I'm thousands of days ahead already.

I lost myself trying to find happiness in things that didn't love me back.

I spent so much time telling myself that this wasn't home that I started to believe it," she said carefully. "Belonging has always been tough for me." I can be your home," he said quietly. "Belong to me.

It felt as though they were the only people in the world, two young women about to bury the symbol of their helplessness, as if that's all it would take to make them whole again.

I think of the future all the time. All my life I've chased dreams of what could be. For the first time in my life, I've actually caught one. I'll give you one day at a time, Claire. But remember, I'm thousands of days ahead already.

It was like she was MADE of cake, light and pretty and decorated on the outside-with her sweet laugh and pink streak to her hair-but it was anyone's guess what was on the inside.

It was like the way you wanted sunshine on Saturdays, or pancakes for breakfast. They just made you feel good.

Love always hurts. That’s one thing I know you know. But it’s worth it. That’s what you don’t know. Yet.

Magic is what we invent when we want something we think we cant have.

Men of thoughtless actions are always surprised by consequences.

Misfits need a place to get away, too. All that trying to fit in is exhausting.

My favorite books are the ones that make me smile for hours after reading them. I want that for my readers, for the sweetness to linger. Sort of like chocolate, but without the calories

My writing process is very organic. I start with an idea. I have the general story arc and the cast. But then I sit down to write, and things change.

No one should ever compromise the dignity of another human being.