Suzanne Collins Quotes

I had to quit ballet because it felt like a part of me was dying inside.

Nostalgia is a strange and powerful emotion. As much we try and fight it and fight ourselves, it's very hard not to.

Wrestling is not only my job, it's my life, so when I wasn't able to wrestle, I didn't know what to do with myself.

If anybody else says it's like old times, I'll jump out the window.

The past is a candle at great distance: too close to let you quit, too far to comfort you.

Throughout it all, I loved her as much as I always had, and I found myself aching for those simpler times of the past. I knew what was happening, of course. As we were drifting apart, I was becoming more desperate to save what we once had shared; like a vicious circle, however, my desperation made us drift apart even further.

At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do.

Alas, why does my mind have to walk through the dust of the past every day?

Oh, seek, my love, your newer way; I'll not be left in sorrow. So long as I have yesterday, Go take your damned tomorrow!

Today again I am hardly myself. It happens over and over.

If I can't be my own, I'd feel better dead

So sad! This is the saddest part when you lose someone you love- that person keeps changing. And later you wonder, Is this the same person I lost?

I love you more than songs can say, but I can't keep running after yesterday.

And here I am, instead of there. I'm sitting in this library, thousands of miles from my life, writing another letter I know I won't be able to send, no matter how hard I try and how much I want to. How did that boy making love behind that shed become this man writing this letter at this table?

I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like all I can do is keep writing this gibberish to keep from breaking apart.

Don't let despair mutate your flesh Look at my twisted stumps of thought See the fingers, listen to the voice I am slowly becoming the end of the line.

The truth is that I feel totally helpless, or totally inconsolable, to be more honest. I’m not trying to hide it, but it’s something you’re not to worry about.

If you leave, we lose and our pasts win.

. . . all that she had had, and all that she had missed, were lost together, and were twice lost in this landslide of remembered losses.

The shadow-past is shaped by everything that never happened. Invisible, it melts the present like rain through karst. A biography of longing. It steers us like magnetism, a spirit torque. This is how one becomes undone by a smell, a word, a place, the photo of a mountain of shoes. By love that closes its mouth before calling a name.

Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.

How had it turned into this? I had lived my whole stupid life without him, and now I could barely make it through the hour.

There’s a difference between losing something you knew you had and losing something you discovered you had. One is a disappointment. The other feels like losing a piece of yourself.

What do you mean, what's the matter with him? Nothing's the matter with him, everything's the matter with him, the same as it is with everybody else. He's just fine. He gets overwhelmed now and then, and he doesn't know how to say what he feels or means, so he cries and runs off a little, trying to find out where to go, for God's sake. Where can you go?