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To surrender and forget appeals more than to resist and remember. I am weak, and I do not like pain. The voice is so beautiful, so tempting, so strong, that I nearly let it consume me. And yet . . . I cannot. If I let go, I will lose something important. Someone important. I cannot remember who it is. I cannot remember who I am.
Fear makes people stupid.” With one last look between Célie and me, he shook his head. “But courage makes ’em stupid too.”
You’ve worked too hard and too long to give up now. Come on. You want more than oblivion. You want to live.
I loved Lou. I knew that. Felt it in my bones. I also couldn’t stand the sight of her. What was wrong with me?
Has he noticed I’m not myself? Has anyone? Do they realize what’s happened to me?
There is no rose without a thorn.
I’m sick with hope, but I can’t make it go away. It’s still here, even now. Poisoning me.
They know nothing of pain. No, no, no, true pain lies outside the sensation of blood and skin. It lies beyond blisters. It lies deep within.
Hope matters most, I say fiercely. Hope isn’t the sickness. It’s the cure.
Hope isn’t the sickness. They hum their own litany now. Their own prayer. It’s the cure.
hope means nothing without action.
Time changes us all, does it not?
Fear was inevitable. We all made our choices, and we all suffered our consequences. We all felt fear. The trick was learning to live with that fear, to continue forward in spite of it.
“Death isn’t an ending at all, Lou. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s the beginning.” Quieter still, he added, “You’ve lived in fear too long.” “Fear has helped me survive,” I snapped. “Fear has kept you from living.”
La Fôret des Yeux to Le Ventre to Fée Tombe—for
“Dreams are never dreams, Mademoiselle Célie. They are our deepest wishes and darkest secrets made true, whispered only under cloak of night. In them, we are free to know ourselves.”
“It isn’t fine to stop trying. We have to try, Coco, or we’ll never find it.”
I hated it. I hated her. I hated that I didn’t hate her at all.
I stared at her tearstained face, chest aching. She didn’t need to convince me. I’d do anything she asked. If kissing her would stop another tear from falling, I’d kiss her a thousand times. If we survived the night, I’d kiss away every tear for the rest of her life.
Where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay.
It doesn’t end in death. It ends in hope.
