Meg Rosoff Quotes

The memory is like a cat scratching my heart.

A defining moment takes a long time to get over, if you ever do.

I met a young man who was wounded in love, I met another man who was wounded in hatred.

When a man is hit by Friendly Fire, his blood pressure lowers and his morale sinks. I have been hit by Friendly Fire in my heart. Sighs spill from my body instead of blood.

Maybe you're not his type." Michael said "Oh, now you're just being insulting.

Who burns me and shocks me and shatters me with a single touch.

I saw people who were hostile; they had felt so much hurt that hostility was their only defense against being crushed again.

One must not speak of such things. One is still scarred from that experience.

[The Catholic convent] had been like the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and there are white scars on my soul, where ignorance and superstition burnt me with their hell fire in those stifling days.

Closeness can lead to emotions other than love. It's the ones who have been too intimate with you, lived in too close quarters, seen too much of your pain or envy or, perhaps more than anything, your shame, who, at the crucial moment, can be too easy to cut out, to exile, to expel, to kill off.

The world shrieks and sinks talons into our hearts. This we call memory.

I thought you'd like it," he said, seeming hurt. "You look very pretty.

Ralston stiffened at the reference to the stupid wager that caused so much pain and unhappiness. He ignored Oxford's proffered hand, and instead met the baron's concerned gaze, and said, "Keep the money. I have her. She's all I want.

The people who are slamming me have no idea about what it feels like to unjustly have a child killed in an insane war.

I know the truth now. You've figured out I'm falling in love with you and you're trying to make me stop by hurting me this way. Well it won't work.

Strange that grief should now almost choke me, because another human being's eye has failed to greet mine.

Vengeance is having a videotape planted in your soul that cannot be turned off. It plays the painful scene over and over again inside your mind...And each time it plays you feel the clap of pain again...Forgiving turns off the videotape of pained memory Forgiving sets you free.

Genuine recollections almost invariably explain oneself to oneself. Suppose, for example, that you feel an instinctive aversion to some particular kind of wine. Try as you will, you can find no reason for it. Suppose when you explore a previous incarnation, you remember you died by a poisoned administered in a wine of that kind, your aversion is explained by the proverb: 'A burnt child dreads the fire.'

It was the worst hurt he had ever known.

Betrayal was a stone beneath a mattress of thr bed you shared, something you felt digging into you no matter how you shifted position. What was the point of being able to forgive, when deep down, you both had to admit you'd never forget?

I remember most clearly when a teenage Christopher spat in my face. He said, "I hate you". It's pretty hard to overlook that. I couldn't.

Loss is loss. Doesn't take death to create it.

I hate you' she said to me one afternoon. 'I really, really hate you.' Call me sensitive, but I couldn't help but take it personally.

Hey man! Get away from me!

A divorce is like a controlled explosion. Everyone on the outside is OK.