Shatter Me (Shatter Me, #1)

by Tahereh Mafi

In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.

My words wear no parachutes as they fall out of my mouth.

Killing time isn’t as difficult as it sounds. I can shoot a hundred numbers through the chest and watch them bleed decimal points in the palm of my hand. I can rip the numbers off a clock and watch the hour hand tick tick tick its final tock just before I fall asleep. I can suffocate seconds just by holding my breath. I’ve been murdering minutes for hours and no one seems to mind.

The human imagination is often disastrous when left to its own devices.

“We are fed lies because believing them makes us weak, vulnerable, malleable.

Only an idiot would rely on the energy of a bean or a leaf to stay awake throughout the day.”

“My opinions,” I say to him, quietly this time, “should not so easily break your own. Stand by your convictions. Form clear and logical arguments. Even if I disagree.”

Torture is not torture when there’s any hope of relief.

Everything seems to be catching up with me at once. My failures. My cowardice. My stupidity. Sometimes I’m just so tired of this life.

I’ve come to believe that the most dangerous man in the world is the one who feels no remorse. The one who never apologizes and therefore seeks no forgiveness. Because in the end it is our emotions that make us weak, not our actions.