Rachel Caine Quotes

Part of me was saying if you say that she's alive, what would everybody think? What are you going to tell everybody who followed you, who you've inspired? What are you going to say? I was scared. That's the truth. I was just scared, and I didn't know what to do.

People see me on TV and I'm this calm, level headed guy. Honestly, that's the furthest thing from who I am. For a long time I struggled with anger and stress. It was killing me, figuratively and literally.

Cast between the extremes of happiness and misfortune, uncertainty is a cruel torment.

Cannot find the comfort in this world.

I am...sad and angry. Why is my spirit so sad and angry? I look back at my life and all I can remember is rage and rage and rage.

jealousy is the direct result of self-betrayal.

Mattie sat at the table, obsessing, orbiting around herself. She was sick of her worried, hostile mind. It would have killed her long before, she felt, if it hadn't needed the transportation.

He was making a brave attempt, but Jason could see the sadness lingering in his eyes. Something had happened to him... something to do with Calypso.

...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.

My heart and my trust were in the process of collapsing. And that collapse created a vacuum in my chest.

There are people whose society I find delicious; but when I sit alone and think of them I shudder.

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!

I don't know whether these feelings - this thing growing inside of me - is something horrible and sick or the best thing that's ever happened to me. Either way, I can't stop it. I've lost control. And the truly sick thing is that despite everything, I'm glad.

[Neurotics are] torn by inner conflicts ... Every neurotic ... is at war with himself.

I'm a war of head versus heart, it's always this way. My head is weak, my heart always speaks, before I know what it will say.

Digory never spoke on the way back, and the others were shy of speaking to him. He was very sad and he wasn't even sure all the time that he had done the right thing; but whenever he remembered the shining tears in Aslan's eyes he became sure.

There's a restless feeling knocking on my door today.

She laughs and looks out the window and I think for a minute that she's going to start to cry. I'm standing by the door and I look over at the Elvis Costello poster, at his eyes, watching her, watching us, and I try to get her away from it, so I tell her to come over here, sit down, and she thinks I want to hug her or something and she comes over to me and puts her arms around my back and says something like 'I think we've all lost some sort of feeling.

I take a deep breath. I'm not sure where that swell of desperation came from, but know that I've acknowledge it, it's impossible to ignore, like a living thing has awakened from a long sleep inside me. It writhes in my stomach and throat. I need to leave. I need the truth.

Torn between fear and something that resembled love, she wrestled with questions she never dreamed she would face: How could she leave? Then again, how could she stay?

Contradiction is the heart and soul of character and drama. You're always looking for it. I loved her so much I hit her; that's character. I loved her so much I hit her again; that's even more character.

He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.

We have begun to slam doors, and to throw things. I throw my purse, an ashtray, a package of chocolate chips, which breaks on impact. We are picking up chocolate chips for days. Jon throws a glass of milk, the milk, not the glass: he knows his own strength, as I do not. He throws a box of Cheerios, unopened. The things I throw miss, although they are worse things. The things he throws hit, but are harmless. I begin to see how the line is crossed, between histrionics and murder.

Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.

...And perhaps you can sense, in some small twisting loop of your gut, the convergence of the wrong, of the right, and of the woefully misguided. If you do, then pay sharp attention to the moment you wake, and the moment you fall asleep...For maybe then you will know, without a shadow of a doubt, which is which.