Best 25 quotes of Daisy Whitney on MyQuotes

I am no longer the left behind. I am the living. And I want everything this life has to offer. I stop for a second and look around at all the shops and stores and stalls. At all the people, going about their days, at all the moments they're living. This is what I want. I want to live every moment. I want to feel everything.

I don't need to be any place else, because the music takes me to the only place I want to be right now. To the place where I am and have always been wholly me, the only church I've ever belonged to, the only place I've ever prayed.

Love and Other Theories challenged my assumptions, dared me to think differently and burrowed into my heart. A heart-achingly beautiful story about whether it is better to protect your heart or to take the biggest risk of all.

Some decisions are hard, some are easy, but either way it's our choices that matter. Who we chose to align with. What we choose to give in to. What we choose to resist. And most of all, who we choose to be. Because it is always our choice.

Sometimes instinct can be wrong. But sometimes it can be right too. And sometimes you just have to take it on faith.

Standing up for what's right is a huge burden to bear. It's normal to have some doubt.

To come to peace with the moving on. It is a gift, in a way. We spend so much of our time fighting death, as we should. But sometimes the greatest gift we can give ourselves, and in turn the ones we love, is to know when to let go. To know when it is time—and to be at peace with that.

Trains are all the ways you miss each other-wrong train, wrong tracks, wrong time.

We are what we love. We are the things, the people, the ideas we spend our days with. They center us, they drive us, they define us to our very core. Without them, we are empty.

And we're all good, everything is forgiven between Beethoven and me because this is the part of me that hasn't changed. In this monent I'm not defined by the other things, the things that happened to me, the things I didn't choose. This is the part of me that defines me for all time, for always. The thing I choose completely.

Because I'm living, and I sure as hell don't have a clue how to feel anything but empty.

But I am tired of everyone being gone, and I am tired of everything that has tired me out for the last five years of my life.

But I don't feel like dealing because dealing requires too much energy, and energy is what I lack.

Do you need anything?" she asks. A mom A dad. Someone. Anyone. Can you arrange for that? "Nah, I'm good.

Get away from my house and all its rooms that echo, all the rooms I don't enter anymore.

I don't tell her that my grasp on truth, on words, on people, has slipped. I was getting close, so close to normal again, and that's been snatched away. I'm not even back where I started. I'm somewhere else entirely, so far off the map I don't know where to turn next.

I risk a grin at the thought. Because there's a part of me that likes that idea. Get out of town and never look back.

No, I am not all right, I want to say. Have you been to my house? Have you seen how empty it is?

Nothing is ever enough.

She expected a lot of me. When I was in fourth grade working on a book report, she made me start the whole thing over when she read it and said it was barely even legible. "What's wrong with it?" I asked her. "It's not good enough yet. You have to try harder," she said, her voice gentle. "You have to try hard at everything you do. That's all I ask." I rolled my eyes and revised it, and over time her approach wore off on me and I became like her too - wanting to do my best, expecting my best.

This is what I'm supposed to be doing this summer. This is how I'm supposed to be passing my days. Figuring out the secret to how she was the most joyful person when she was dying. Because I'm living, and I sure as hell don't have a clue how to feel anything but empty.

Why am I doing this? Because it feels so good to talk like we used to, even though I know this is just a shadow of what we had. But I chase it anyway.

Why she was the happy one when she was dying, and I just can't seem to manage anything when I'm living.

Yeah, I'm just here for - " I stop for a second, because I'm not sure how to finish the line out loud. To see if I can ever be happy, or even remotely human, again. Would you happen to have the magic cure?

You’re not the same. You’re not supposed to be the same. You’re supposed to be different. This isn’t something you will ever forget.