Jennifer Donnelly Quotes

I just know that I’m not willing to let anything happen to you. When Nynia died, I was so lost and cold, and I haven’t been warm since. Not until I felt your hands on me. The only way I’ve been able to cope without you is to bury what I feel, but I can’t seem to do that anymore. When I’m with you all I can do is feel and need. (Talon)

How am I supposed to let you go, that's all I'm asking. I want to hold you again, smell you, and, yes too, I just want you to fade. To please, please fade.

The dead leave their shadows, an echo of the space within which once they lived. They haunt us, never fading or growing older as we do. The loss we grieve is not just their futures but our own.

I've never really had anybody close to me die. I think the song is about a feeling that I have that, it still applies. It's a feeling of longing, once again.

You just watch somebody you love slowly, slowly disappear and go away.

I was ravenous for my child and took to gorging myself in the boneyard, hoping that she might possibly meet me halfway, or just beyond, one night, if only for an instant—step back into her own bare feet, onto the wet grass or fallen leaves or snowy ground of the living Enon, so that we could share just one last human word.

Sometimes being away, on location, I feel like I'm away for much of my own life. I want to be better at staying connected.

I did not know how to reach him, how to catch up with him... The land of tears is so mysterious.

There were times Ruma felt closer to her mother in death than she had in life, an intimacy born simply of thinking of her so often, of missing her. But she knew that this was an illusion, a mirage, and that the distance between them was now infinite, unyielding.

Lucas," I repeated. "I know you can hear me. The guy I love is still in there. Come back to me." Once again longed for the release of tears. "Death couldn't keep me from you. And it can't keep you from me, not if you don't let it.

Love itself cannot be divorced from the suffering which comes from being separated from the object of love.

I couldn't stand here, hanging on, when the very thing I held disappeared more with each passing day.

One writes because one has been touched by the yearning for and the despair of ever touching the Other.

I was never good at hide and seek because I'd always make enough noise so my friends would be sure to find me. I don't have anyone to play those games with any more, but now and then I make enough noise just in case someone is still looking and hasn't found me yet.

Besides the obvious difference, there was not much distinction between losing a best friend and losing a lover: it was all about intimacy. One moment, you had someone to share your biggest triumphs and fatal flaws with; the next minute, you had to keep them bottled inside. One moment, you'd start to call her to tell her a snippet of news or to vent about your awful day before realizing you did not have that right anymore; the next, you could not remember the digits of her phone number.

I kissed him, trying to bring him back. I kissed him and let my lips rest against his so that our breath mingled and the tears from my eyes became salt on his skin, and I told myself that, somewhere, tiny particles of him would become tiny particles of me, ingested, swallowed, alive, perpetual. I wanted to press every bit of me against him. I wanted to will something into him. I wanted to give him every bit of life I felt and force him to live.

You think the dead we loved truly ever leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly in times of great trouble?

He felt he had lost it for good, he knew what it was to have been in communication with her, and to be cast off again. In misery, his heart like a heavy stone, he went about unliving.

Separation Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

Looking back, it seemed like it should have been harder to lose someone, or have them lose you, especially when they were in the same state, only a few towns over.

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.

Nothing was working, and my friend was dead, and I didn't want to look at that.

No one ever loved you like him. And no one ever took it away so completely. But it's here. Look around.

It's just hard," Harry said finally, in a low voice, "to realize he won't write me again

I was right when I said I'd never look back. It hurts too much, it drags at your heart till you can't ever do anything else except look back.