Identical Ellen Hopkins Quotes

Funny how when your life is mostly bullshit, you turn off feeling. Sometimes it's hard to turn it back on again.

I'm in love. And I like how that feels. And I hate how that feels. Because love is an invention of fiction writers.

I want the part of you that you refuse to give.

Don't make me laugh, I'd much rather cry.

Happily ever after is a concept I'll never believe in.

I am different. And I don't understand exactly how. And I don't understand just why.

Because to tell you the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape

I do have friends, but they don't know me, only someone I've created to take my place. Someone sculpted from ice. I keep the melted me bottled up inside. Where no one can touch her, until, unbidden, she comes pouring out.

Yesterday influences today, thus creates tomorrow.

The stars shine as they always do. Same stars. Same sky. Only I am different.

I don't love him, & he definitely doesn't love me. Still, he semi-fills a gaping black hole inside me. That place wants love, maybe even needs love, but love is something I"m pretty sure doesn't exist.

They think old people are lame. But they're not. They're awesome, & I know exactly why I think so. It's because they've lived entire lifetimes. Loved. Laughed. Surrendered. Stumbled. Weathered, beaten, still they don't crumble, not even as they inch toward death.

I want to know what it means to be in love. But in my dictionary 'in love' is indefinable.

Was I saved, or was fate simply too damn busy killing other people that day to catch up to me, too?

Despite whoever created it, it's my world, & the only one I've got. Might as well make the best of it, right? Might as well have a little fun while I'm here. Or a lot of fun. Might be dead tomorrow.

That's what I'll be. A silhouette, rarely seen, and yet believed in.

I don't think we'll get caught, but the very possibility is half the fun.

I want to know living love. And I don't want to wait for it.

Afraid to Die Loveless Because I think if you die without knowing love in this life, that's how you'll spend eternity. Alone. Frozen.

Evil is not intrinsic. It's fashioned.

The more I think about it, the more I believe there has to be a subtle yet satisfying method of revenge.

Or might the soul clone itself, create a perfect imitation of something yet to be defined? In this way, can a reflection be altered?

I really have to wonder who or what made Daddy become this way. Babies aren't born cruel or filled with sick desire. Evil is not intrinsic. It's fashioned.

And now life has become the future. Every moment of your life is lived for the future-you go to high school so you can go to college so you can get a good job so you can get nice house.

How odd, to suddenly glimpse a facet of me I didn't know existed. I guess it really isn't all that unusual to surprise oneself with an ugly bit of ego.

Never accept evil as something you must walk with, something you deserve.

HAPPY EVER AFTER is a concept I'll never believe in. I would be content to sample some little taste of happiness today, tonight, right now. Though I know without a doubt that tomorrow will come saturated with pain. Life is like that. At least my life. And honestly, I cant think of anyone whose life is any different. The price tag for joy is misery. [...]

Ask me, it's a sin to pervert faith with religion. Despite every church, mosque, & synagogue in it, this is not the world any God worth his salt would have created.

But I so want to walk that razor's edge, Take feeling to a whole new level.

I know he wants to get serious. He's definitely not a player, not a poser, not a loser, not a user.

But hey, I'm not exactly sold on the idea that love is, in fact, real. Will it find me one day, overtake me, infiltrate my life like sunlight snakes through the cold of morning? Can love thaw me? will it ever?

But death doesn't scare me. To know exactly when I might expect it, up close and in my face, would actually be a comfort. Because to tell the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape.

Starving for a high, a place to hang out inside my own head. Starving for touch. Pain, even. A way to feel. I need to feel.

crawling up into daddy's lap when dad was still DADDY nodding my head against his chest soaking in the comfort of his heart LISTENING to the thump...thump somewhere beneath muscle and breastbone I remember his arms their sublime ENCIRCLING and the shawdow of his voice "I love you, little girl. Put away your bad dreams. Daddy's here" I put them away, Until Daddy became my nightmare that one that came HOME from work everyday and instead of picking me up, chased me far far away

That's what I'll be. A silhouette, rarely seen, and yet believed in. Kaeleigh wants to believe in me. I am her twin, forever alive inside her. And when she needs me, I am always here.

It's probably weird to think about an addiction like it's a sentient being, but that's how it feels. Like it's something living inside you. Something you can't get rid of because killing it means killing you.

She's no longer afraid to die. What she's afraid of is living, accepting the status quo.

I can't change what has happened in the past, Kaeleigh. I can only promise to make the future better.

He's solid. "You're fractured." He's hopeful. "You're hopeless." He's always there. "You're half there." He's faithful. "You're so not." He's giving. "You're afraid to give." He's honest. "You lie all the time." He's loving. "You don't know how to love.

I wish I were worthy of his love. (Any love.)I should tell him to run. But I can't. I need him.

A whole big, giant world full of men. Men with blue eyes. Brown eyes. Green eyes. And indescribable shades in between. Tall men. Short men. Skinny men. Built men. And all combinations thereof. Nice men (so I've heard, but never really seen). Mean men. Decent men, indecent. And who knows which is the best kind to have, to hold, to love? I'd say, with so many men in the world, it would pay to sample a few. Scratch that. More than a few. Lots and lots. And then a few more. And maybe, after years of research, you might find one worth not throwing back. But hey, the fun is in the fishing.

Only by confronting your demons can you ever hope to conquer them.

I nod, because I do understand. I'm just not sure how to go about divorcing myself from the evil I've already accepted.

Raeanne Mirror, Mirror When I look into a mirror, it is her face I see. Her right is my left, double moles, dimple and all. My right is her left, unblemished. We are exact opposites, Kaeleigh and me. Mirror image identical twins. One egg, one sperm one zygote, divided, sharing one complete set of genetic markers. On the outside we are the same. But not inside. I think she is the egg, so much like our mother it makes me want to scream. Cold. Controlled. That makes me the sperm I guess. I take completely after our father. All Daddy, that's me. Codependent. Cowardly. Good, bad. Left, right. Kaeleigh and Raeanne. One egg, one sperm. One being, split in two. And how many souls?

He has built a pedestal for her so tall that she is afraid to be lifted atop it, because to fall would mean certain death. But oh, she would rise far, far beyond fear and be held by arms so strong, and love so pure, that falling would not be an option.

Babies aren't born cruel or filled with sick desire. Evil is not intrinsic. It's fashioned

Kaeleigh, queen of passive, all the time saying no, but not strong enough to mean it.

In control. Out of control. Sometimes they're the same thing. The trick is knowing that, realizing it's okay to feel out of control once in a while, as long as you're sure you can regain the upper hand when you absolutely need to.

Not even Carol knows firsthand how it feels to be hurt in such a way by someone who's supposed to protect you

And this is a kiss like none before, a kiss that could overcome the dark of deep space night. It's a falling star, flame, ice. It's pure as water from a snow-fed mountain spring. This is what you dream a kiss to be. To have a kiss just like this each and every day! How satisfying life would be.

And almost instantly, Daddy made everything seem just fine. Even when it wasn't.

I swallow any sort of apology. "screwing your neighbor." There. Said it. React, okay? pregnant pause becomes three weeks overdue. Four weeks. Time for a C-section. What? Oh, Kaeleigh, I'm so sorry. Are you sure...?

I do have friends, but they don't know me, only someone I've created to take my place. Someone sculpted from ice.

Our kiss eclipses all others, real, imagine, dreamed of. It is the beginning of time, it is the end of the ages.

I truly wish the power of his love could eclipse the overwhelming shame.

You are my glue. Without you, I'd be nothing but broken pieces.

Is this overwhelming attraction really mutual, or is my believing that just a sign of impending insanity? Is my lunacy on the horizon, or is already here?

I Want to Shout Leave me alone! What's wrong with you? Don't you remember who I am? Who you are? This is not a father's love! I want to scream, Can't you see what you are doing to me? What you've done to me? What you've made of me? I want to cry out, I am your little girl. I am not your girlfriend. I am not your whore. I am not my fucking mother! But he is on top of me and my shout is silenced. He is inside of me and my scream stays there too. He is finished. And I don't cry out, but I do cry a bucket of silent tears. He slithers away and at last, I quietly sob

In fact, since the accident, Mom doesn't love anyone. She is marble. Beautiful. Frigid. Easily stained by her family. What's left of us anyway. We are corpses. At first, we sought rebirth. But resurrection devoid of her love has made us zombies. We get up every morning, skip breakfast, hurry off to work or school. For in those other places, we are more at home. And sometimes we stagger beneath the weight of grief, the immensity of aloneness.

oh, how I wish that I could give him what Daddy takes so easily from me. But it would be a tainted gift. Sadness now, and I wonder how it feels to live without a constant fog of sorrow, a breeze of loneliness.

You can't trust a man, any man

Ian's sense of right and wrong overwhelms me. Not a single other person .... I know possesses such an unshakable sense of morality. Its more than unbelievable. It's frightening. To offer without strings something all men crave, and be rejected by him is incomprehensible. Think I'll have to kick Kaeleigh's ass. Does she have any idea what it means .... to be so treasured? He has built a pedestal for her so tall that she is afraid to be lifted atop it, because to fall would mean certain death. But oh, she would rise far, far beyond fear.

One thing for sure. I will break the abuse cycle. It stops with me. My children will not live in fear.

I wonder if there's really a place in heaven for hypocrites who preach love, all the while kicking the downtrodden.

Afraid to die loveless. Because I think if you die without knowing love in this life, that's how you'll spend eternity. Alone. Frozen. Do you think hell is fiery? I don't. I think hell is frozen.

In control. Out of control. Sometimes they're the same thing. The trick is knowing it's okay to feel out of control once in a while, as long as you're sure you can regain the upper hand when you absolutely need to.

...Now I understand how love can come alive inside you, beneath your skin, beneath your flesh and bone, a separate entity, breathing in and out its own special air, expanding to fill all those hollow places that you can't fill by yourself.

I wonder if there's really a place in heaven for hypocrites who preach love, all the while kicking the downtrodden.

There's Daddy, who comes home every day, dives straight into a tall amber bottle, falls into a stone-walled silence, a place where he can tread the suffocating loneliness.

In fact, since the accident, Mom doesn't love anyone anymore. She is marble. Beautiful. Frigid. Easily stained by her family. What's left of us, anyway. We are corpses.

You can't trust a man, any man, any more than you can put your faith in a rabid dog, not even your own dog, one who would never hurt you, except he's rabid.

I don't love him, and he definitely doesn't love me. Still, he semi-fills a gaping black hole inside me. That place wants love, maybe even needs love, but love is something I'm pretty sure doesn't exist.

Happy ever after is a concept I'll never believe in. I would be content to sample some little taste of happiness, today, tonight, right now, though I know without a doubt that tomorrow will arrive, saturated with pain.

Afraid to die loveless because I think if you die without knowing love in this life, that's how you'll spend eternity. Alone. Frozen. Do you think hell is fiery? I don't. I think hell is frozen.

I met evil when I was only a child.

Babies aren't born cruel or filled with sick desire. Evil is not intrinsic. It's fashioned

It's probably weird to think about an addiction like it's a sentient being, but that's how it feels. Like it's something living inside you. Something you can't get rid of because killing it means killing you. I can't really understand addictions to drugs or alcohol. Things that control you. But an eating disorder is an addiction you control. Wait, is that paradoxical? I prefer to believe not.

Babies aren't born cruel or filled with sick desire. Evil is not intrinsic. It's fashioned.

Ask me, it’s a sin to pervert faith with religion.

Forever has no meaning when you're living in the moment

I’m in love. And I like how that feels. And I hate how that feels. Because love is an invention of fiction writers.

He takes the first toke, and now heaven is on fire, and smoking.

I can't change what has happened in the past, Kaeleigh. I can only promise to make the future better.