Impulse Ellen Hopkins Quotes

Love means holding on to someone just as hard as you can because if you don't, one blink and they might disappear...forever.

Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.

Grandma once told me it's easy to overthink love, to dissect it and question it until it is no more.

One foot in front of the other, counting tiles on the floor so I don't have to focus the blur of painted smiles, fake faces.

It [death] chokes you, gags you, but you have to pretend that you're doing just fine, not trembling with this fear because the end is close.

Too much to take in, too much to purge. Why must every memory, once sweet, dead end in such ugliness?

You believe this is a game, and you may be right. But if you think you can play it better than me, think again.

My happiest memories have no place in the past; they are those I have yet to create.

Now that I have opened that bottle of memories they're pouring out like wine, crimson and bittersweet.

Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound. Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light. Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeapordy. Pray you could somehow stop uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain. Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.

She is madness, sanity. She is hell, and paradise.

I'd sleep outside naked in the blizzard,for you.

Memory is a tenuous thing. . . . flickering glimpses, blue and white, like ancient, decomposing 16mm film. Happiness escapes me there, where faces are vague and yesterday seems to come tied up in ribbons of pain. Happiness? I look for it intead in today, where memory is something I can still touch, still rely on. I find it in the smiles of new friends, the hope blossoming inside. My happiest memories have no place in the past; they are those I have yet to create.

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

Everyone's afraid of everybody else...maybe because we're all afraid of ourselves.

HOW do you define a word without concrete meaning? To each his own, the saying goes, so WHY push to attain an ideal state of being that no two random people will agree is WHERE you want to be? Faultless. Finished. Incomparable. People can never be these, and anyway, WHEN did creating a flawless facade become a more vital goal than learning to love the person WHO lives inside your skin? The outside belongs to others. Only you should decide for you - WHAT is perfect.

I mean, if you're gonna purposely lose your mind, you want to get it back some day. Don't you? Okay, maybe not.

...what good would it do to shutter your windows, never dream of rainbows or find hope in promises? Why choose to walk away rather than hold your ground and fight for love?

I tattered their wings and tore off their legs, joint by joint, watched them crawl in circles, like little lost infants, untill they decide to die.

Bad choices or good, if you never take chances, someone else will build your life for you.

Ghosts don't scare me. Flesh and blood people do.

....a perfect paper airplane.

The truth is, I don't have a real clue what love is - how to find it, how to give it. Once upon a time I thought I knew.

Death Is only the easy way out if you are the one who dies.

And the thought of that makes me want to open a vein, experience pain, know I'm alive, despite this living death.

Fake Is that what you are if you choose to improve the basic not perfect you?

As the old saying goes, "sometimes loving someone means letting them go.

But then, my entire life is bullshit. The best things in it have vanished, ghosts. Ghosts I'll admit I created.

When did creating a flawless facade become a more vital goal than learning to love the person who lives inside your skin?

When you've only got one little shimmer of sunshine, you capture it best you can.

Grown up? Me? I suppose I have. Killing things, and almost killing myself, must have changed me some, after all.

If all you can promise me is today, I'll take it and hope for tomorrow.

But Hey, Guess What Crazy means I'm not liable for my actions. So screw it, I'll go home, propped up on Prozac against distractions

She is angle. I am curve. Together, we are geometric sculpture, and we make perfect sense.

No, of course not. But surely you know your affair couldn't go on forever." "Forever has no meaning when you're living in the moment and I wasn't ready for that moment to end.

A Problem Is really just a solution in need of a reason to exist.

Living means taking chances. Risks. Playing safe all the time is being dead inside, even if you happen to still be breathing.

I wonder how long it would take him to realize I'm right as sin - it's the rest of the world that's wrong. I'm not even sure how I qualify for admission to Aspen Springs. Does wanting to die equal losing your mind?

TRIAD: Three separate highways intersect at a place no reasonable person would ever want to go. Three lives that would have been cut short, if not for hasty interventions by loved ones. Or Fate. Three people, with nothing at all in common except age, proximity, and a wish to die. Three tapestries, tattered at the edges and come unwoven to reveal a single mutual thread.

The truth is, I've always been afraid of letting anyone get too close. I built a wall around me, a barricade to hide behind those few times someone wanted entry to my heart.

It is hard to believe that something that seems so permanent was once so different. Change. I guess that really is one thing you can count on...

Love Is a curious thing. Sometimes it barrels into you, leaves you breathless. Other times, it comes in- to your life, a tentative beam of morning sun sneaking through the blinds, and you think this light isn't possible. The shutters are drawn. Night should linger on. I don't feel like waking. Yet the room comes slowly lit. Sleep slithers away, and at last you can no longer deny the dawning.

There will never be color blindness in a culture of fear.

Freedom is a double-edged ideal, because true freedom comes without the protection of laws that also enslave us by defining us--female, male; Christian, Islamic; good, evil. All at the whim of a frail minority.

Her smile is like summer moonlight-beautiful and magical, with a fire that could melt the night.

Am I more afraid Of taking a chance and learning I'm somebody I don't know, or of risking new territory, only to find I'm the same old me? There is comfort in the tried and true. Breaking ground might uncover a sinkhole, one impossible to climb out of. And setting sail in uncharted waters might mean capsizing into a sea monster's jaws. Easier to turn my back on these things than to try tjem and fail. And yet, a whisper insists I need to know if they are or aren't integral to me. Status quo is a swamp. And stagnation is slow death.

For a long while. Finally she says, I don't believe in love. Not sure it really exists, but even if it does for some people, it won't for me. She is serious. Then she lightens up. But, hey, if you think you love me, cool.

I'd like to cry now. Don't know how.

Love is for children and dimwads.

Transformation Isn't easy when most of the people in your life think you're already perfect, and want you to stay just how they see you. Try to begin a new phase, you'd better expect push-back. Try to create a whole new you, your friend list will shrink considerably.

Anger is easier than forgiveness.

Sometimes, you don't wake up. But if you happen to, you know things will never be the same.

And how can it be he's so in love with me? To grow up without love, and still have so much inside?

Real love shouldn't be disposable.

Love is Chocolate The unprocessed kind. Dark. Bitter. But always with the promise of sweet perfection. All it takes is sugar- that certain someone's kiss, flavored with possibility. If Dani has taught me anything, it's that life is brimming with possibilities. Every single day brings choices.

It was the exact opposite for me. At first all I wanted was sex with her, but soon I wanted more. More sex, yes, in unusual places, and all different kinds. But that wasn’t all. I wanted her to fill the empty spaces left by a father who never once praised me, ‘friends’ who used me, an ice princess mom who raised me with glass kisses.

Commitment means losing yourself to gain something temporary. Nothing lasts. Not looks. Not love. I'm living large and living for today because there might not be a tomorrow.

Paradise A concept embraced by almost every culture. A land of peace and harmony. Some say it doesn't belong to the earth, that there is no Shangri-la, no utopian wilderness for the living.

My happiest memories Have no place in the Past; they are those I have yet to create.

Standing Here My entire world far beneath my feet, I should be filled with pride. Instead, I feel overwhelmed by a sense of defeat. Suddenly it comes to me, toes tempted to test the ledge, that there is a way out of this. Clam surety flows through my veins, and as I turn to wave good-bye, I wonder if it will hurt or if a single person will cry at my funeral. I take a deep breath, a final taste of sweet mountain air. I conjure Leona, Emily. Move my feet closer. Closer There's Grandma One, Grandma Two, and their spouses, waiting for me. I see Dad. Cara. Mommy. I screw up my courage, step over

Does wanting to die equal losing your mind?

Perfect? How do you define a word without concrete meaning? To each his own, the saying goes, so why push to attain an ideal state of being that no two random people will agree is where you want to be? Faultless. Finished. Incomparable. People can never be these, and anyway, when did creating a flawless facade become a more vital goal than learning to love the person who lives inside your skin? The outside belongs to others. Only you should decide for you--- what is perfect

Not exactly. I see a girl who wants to present someone special to the world. Someone beautiful. The pinnacle of beauty. But she has lost her hold on reality. Real beauty isn’t thin. It isn’t size two, unless you happen to be four foot ten. What the world sees when they look at you is someone who believes self-worth is all about how she looks, and that very often means that what she’s missing is love. Not someone else’s love. But love and respect for herself.

The wind kicks in stronger, branches clatter. Or maybe skeletons. Bones of abandonment. Ghosts that will never be.

Such an incredible waste of energy, to work your ass off for sixty years, then shrivel up, die, and be nothing more than a memory - if you're lucky enough to leave someone behind who will remember you. There must be more. Don't you think?

I can see why she feels left behind. Maybe even discarded. Is that why she refuses to accept my love and return it? Afraid that love doesn't last? Doesn't really exist? Afraid if her own father can withdraw his love (or at least the manifestation of his love), that maybe she somehow isn't worthy of the emotion?

Built by pain and drive.

But calories won't conquer me. They are one thing I can control

Only you should decide for you what is perfect.

That stinking mirror doesn't lie. Every time I walk by it shouts out, 'Hey. Chub. When are you going to lose those 15 pounds of ugly-ass flab?

Raining radiation on this ozone-deprived planet. The only thing she ever longed for was short-lived love.

back turned, you don't have to look at what you've left behind. And the first person who turned their back on you can't watch you break down and cry.

Without Warning Sometimes you're traveling a highway, the only road you've ever known, and wham! A semi comes from nowhere and rolls right over you.

I hate this feeling like I'm here, but I'm not. Like someone cares. But they don't. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here.

Change doesn't come without invitation. You won't discover it in routine. And you won't create an all-new and better you if you wait for someone else to give you permission. Transformation begins - and ends - inside of you.

trust is just another five letter word, one that comes before not,

When you live afraid of your neighbor, the monster you should most walk in terror of thrives.

Bomb me, make me vaporise

And I did say excuse me, with my butt. Apparently you don’t speak “rectum.

Except when it comes to Mom. She is, and always has been, the driving force in this family. And sometimes that means driving us head-on, no possible change of course, into a wall.

I'm right as sin - it's the rest of the world that's wrong.

The worst liars are the ones everyone thinks would never, ever tell a lie.

When I was little, my friends would gush over wedding gowns and honeymoons. But I saw too many people flush decades together down the toilet over money or kids or meaningless flings. My own parents chose to stay married, which I think is rather funny, since they show about as much affection for each other as pit bulls in a ring. Tying the knot means slipping a noose around love and choking it to death.

Tony's Kiss Is like no other kiss, ever. It wants, but does not demand. It asks, but doesn't take. It gives, and pleads for more. It is filled with desire, but also curiosity, and it teaches me that a kiss should come gift wrapped, not stripped naked. Most of all, it makes me want another kiss exactly like this one.

I don't believe in God, don't believe in the devil. Unless you want to count my mother. She might be Satan's sister, I suppose.

• You’re safe here, it (He?) said, No judgements, No worries, you’re One of My children, And a special part Of the Grand Plan.

Maybe crazy is preferable to staying strong when you just want to break down and weep.

The memory stirs sadness. It scatters around me like dust.

Stagnation is a slow death.

Why is mania bad, if it means you're on top of the world, where everything is white? Bright.

Life is all about change. If it were static, think about how boring it would be. You can't be afraid of it, and you can't worry that you'll mess things up.

Wishful thinking pretty much always comes back to slap you in the face.

I wonder if what I did made her hurt as much as she hurt me. Only fair, to trade hurt. But life isn't fair.

From what I've seen, love isn't about mutual respect. It's more concerns with control than sacrifice. And I wonder whether it's better or worse when love finally walks away.

I'm struggling to take ownership of this new person I call me. But everyday brings me closer. And I'm glad I got to know her at all.

A problem is really just a solution in need of a reason to exist. If you think about it, life would be kind of boring if it were completely free of friction.

the stranger who keeps insisting she is the real me— and that if I would allow her to take up residence inside this flawless shell, I will finally come to terms with who I was born to be.

Back turned, you don't have to look at what you've left behind. And the person who first turned their back on you can't watch you break down and cry. Never allow an enemy to see weakness in you.

When People Ask How he’s doing now, I have no idea what to say except for, “Better.” I don’t know if that’s true, or what goes on in a place like Aspen Springs, not that any- one knows he’s there, thank God. He has dropped off most people’s radar, although that’s kind of odd. Before he took this unbelievable turn, Conner was top rung on our social ladder. But with his crash and burn no longer news of the day, all but a gossipy few have quit trying to fill in the blanks. One exception is Kendra, who for some idiotic reason still loves him and keeps asking about him, despite the horrible way he dumped her. Kendra may be pretty, but she’s not especially bright.

Pray you could somehow stop the uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain...

Forever has no meaning when you’re living in the moment. I wasn’t ready for that moment to end.

Rules are part of our lives. Only children and fools believe they're immune.

I think God cares more about how you treat others than who you sleep with.

Tying the know means slipping a noose around love and choking it to death.

Fighting Depression Is hard when you have no real reason to fight it. Why pretend everything is fine when everything pretty much sucks?

Yes, it takes two to dance. But somebody has to lead.

Nobody seems to care that with every push to live up to their expectations, my own dreams vaporize.

I need to find a way to feel alive that doesn’t require someone else to make it happen.

The longer we try to hold on to each other, the more it will hurt when we finally fall apart.

Pretty isn't good enough.

I Won’t Fly Today Too much to do, despite the snow, which made all local schools close their doors. What a winter! Usually, I love watching the white stuff fall. But after a month with only short respites, I keep hoping for a critical blue sky. Instead, amazing waves of silvery clouds sweep over the crest of the Sierra, open their obese bellies, and release foot upon foot of crisp new powder. The ski resorts would be happy, except the roads are so hard to travel that people are staying home. So it kind of boggles the mind that three guys are laying carpet in the living room. Just goes to show the power of money. In less than an hour, the stain Conner left on the hardwood will be a ghost.

What I want to tell you is what I think he would tell you if he could. Living means taking chances. Risks. Playing it safe all the time is being dead inside, even if you happen to still be breathing. people expected Connor to play it safe all the time. And when he did, he felt dead inside. I saw him take risks, and then he was the most alive person I've ever known. he would ask you to take chances. Sometimes that means getting hurt. Getting an F. Losing a game. Losing someone you love. But if you always play it safe, you lose anyway.

The Stain That Conner left on our lives will not vanish as easily. I don’t care about Mom and her birds. Their estimation of my brother doesn’t bother me at all. Neither do I worry about Dad and what his lobbyist buddies think. His political clout has not diminished. As twins go, Conner and I don’t share a deep affection, but we do have a nine-months-in-the-same-womb connection. Not to mention a crowd of mutual friends. God, I’ll never forget going to school the day after that ugly scene. The plan was to sever the gossip grapevine from the start with an obvious explanation— accident. Mom’s orders were clear. Conner’s reputation was to be protected at all costs. When I arrived, the rumors had already started, thanks to our neighbor, Bobby Duvall. Conner Sykes got hurt. Conner Sykes was shot. Conner Sykes is in the hospital. Is Conner Sykes, like, dead? I fielded every single question with the agreed fabrication. But eventually, I was forced to concede that, though his wounds would heal, he was not coming back to school right away. Conner Sykes wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t exactly “okay.

To be kissed like they do in books, some exotic setting beguiling two ordinary people, bewitching them with its subtle perfumes until, stranger inextricably linked to stranger, their lives are forever changed. I am only kissed like this in dreams.

I cut to focus when my brain is racing. I cut to make physical what I feel inside. I cut to see blood because I like it. I don’t like to cut, but I can’t give it up. I

No rest for the wicked, which must include me.

Life isn't fair, and luck? That is something you create.

The road snakes south, then north, ultimately taking us east, and I wonder if life is like that. Go one way, then another, to end up someplace else.

I'm afraid it will never be perfect again. I am indelibly stained. Forever redefined, but blurred around the edges.

Falling in love can happen to complete strangers. Staying in love requires being best friends and that means accepting the person beneath the veneer.

Imperfections create character.

When you’ve only got one little shimmer of sunshine, you capture it best you can.

If you worry about falling down, and never 'up,' the sky will remain forever out of reach.

Parenting should be a passion, not a part-time pursuit.

Perfection is a ridiculous goal because there is no such thing. Real beauty is what you are inside.

Conner falls in, very close behind me. You have to be more careful, he whispers. I won’t always be around to protect you. His voice is chocolate— sweet, smooth, rich . . . . . . foreboding.

What we strive for, ultimately, is love. You won't find real love because you're beautiful on the outside. It is drawn to inner beauty. Spend your energy crafting that, and you will know true love.

It wants, but does not demand. It asks, but doesn't take. It gives, and pleads for more. It is filled with desire, but also curiosity, and it teaches me that a kiss should come gift wrapped, not stripped naked

I feel dead inside anyway. Cara made me feel alive. Maybe that's why I can't let her go. I don't want to feel dead anymore. What I think is, I need a way to feel alive that doesn't require someone else to make it happen.

maybe I’ll get a job, an apartment. Chill for a year or so, until I figure out exactly what it is I want to do. Become. God, the harder they push me to “become” something, the more I want to dig in my heels and just be whatever it is I am. And

Conner was tired of the pressure. Sick of trying to find the equation that would lighten the weight of expectations not his own.

When you’re younger, a bump in the nose and a few extra pounds don’t mean much. But now they do.

male/female, male/male, female/female. Love.

Think how much people must have loved each other when all they had was each other

It's hard to believe that something that seems so permanent was once so different

I’d use math to calculate how fast I’d have to drive my car over a cliff of x feet in height to attain the proper distance to make sure I’d end up dead instead of paralyzed.

Commitment means losing yourself to gain something temporary. Nothing lasts. Not looks. Not love. I’m living large and living for today because there might not be a tomorrow.

Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.

The best-rehearsed denials can't fool inquiring minds.

Think how people must have loved each other when all they had was each other.

What I don't like is what it sometimes takes to win. Backstabbing. Manipulation. Out-and-out bribery once in a while, and not always the monetary kind.

Good thing loving someone doesn't require caring about their parents.

let myself love him back because love is like summer. It only lasts so long.

To win is to prosper. The game is defeating doubt. And the fun is in the game.

Love means holding on to someone just as hard as you can because if you don't, one blink and they might disappear forever.

I'm feeling better too. Like maybe there's a place for me - a place I might even want to be.

Pray you could somehow stop the uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain. Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.

Look. I’m not sure exactly what happened here, but you are everything to me. Even if you weren’t, you have to realize you can’t get a guy all worked up, then tell him to stop. It’s not fair.

That day I actually thought about howling. So I gave myself to the knife, asked it to bite a little harder, chew a little deeper. The hot, scarlet rush felt so delicious I couldn't stop there.

Did I expect To learn something new, walking the same old avenues? Did I believe I'd find surprises under the pillow my head rests on every night—an extension of myself? Change doesn't come without invitation. You won't discover it in routine. And you won't create an all-new and better you if you wait for someone else to give you permission. Transformation begins— and ends—inside of you.

If you will only pause, as you hurry through your days, take a minute to look at passersby, beyond cursory skin-deep analysis, all the way into their eyes, what beauty you might find woven from the life threads there.

The things they say! A truck driver would blush. I would never talk that way to Trevor he walks on water. I want him to think I do too. For a while, he did, or at least he pretended to. I did things with Trevor I wouldn't dare to confess to anyone—things I didn't know anyone did. But he wanted me to, so I did. That's what you do when you love someone, right?

What good can come from one-sidedness? A house with a single side is nothing more than a wall. Not much in the way of shelter. What good is there in chasing rainbows? Even if you found yourself haloed with prismatic light, would it promise a happy ending? Could an ending do anything but break your heart? And yet, what good would it do to shutter your windows, never dream of rainbows or find hope in promises? Why choose to walk away rather than hold your ground and fight for love?

We sat on the floor, newspaper- wrapped presents in our laps, imagining all the wonderful things inside. We opened them carefully, peeling back layers of newsprint until we reached the boxes, sliced the Scotch tape with our fingernails, lifted the flaps, and each of us found . . . One MRE (Meal, Ready to Eat— turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce, in foil pouches); one Hershey bar; and a handful of bullet casings, because this is what my men are getting today. And one more thing: a scrap of paper with a hand-scrawled I love you, Dad.

when did creating a flawless facade become a more vital goal than learning to love the person who lives inside your skin? The outside belongs to others. Only you should decide for you— what is perfect.

Private dreams Snare you. Swallow you. Make you feel like you're all alone, like you don't want to sleep and fall into them. What good are dreams if you can't share them? How sad to think there are people who must move forward into some hollow future, empty of hope. Destined to travel an avenue potholed with broken promises.

Tying the knot means slipping a noose around love and choking it to death.

I mean if you're going to kill yourself, there are faster ways than letting [meth] chew up your brain one lobe at a time" "Do enough crank, your heart will give up before your brain does. Most people don't do enough to die, though. They just do enough to keep getting more and more stupid." "Like stupid enough to smuggle meth into a place like this?

I turn, wanting to see her face. It's a gift, despite the sadness etched there.

When will America quit living in the shadow of 9/11? When will her people decide to stop living in daily fear? When will they think twice about who they should be afraid of - some would-be terrorist a thousand miles away, or some US politician, hell-bent on peeking behind closed doors?

I love you for the person I’ve discovered under your skin

I'm right as sin - it's the rest of the world that's wrong.

I keep hearing that love isn't a logical emotion. Should I worry about that?

And how can it be he's so in love with me? To grow up without love and still have so much inside?

Life is all about change. If it were static, think about how boring it would be. You can't be afraid of it, and you can't worry that you'll mess things up. You deserve good things, and I want to be one of them.

This time when we kiss, I feel it in the pit of my stomach, I feel it in my heart. And, I realize love isn't about sex. It's about connection.

It's hard to believe that something that seems so permanent was once so different. Change. I guess that really is one thing you can count on.

Forever has no meaning when you're living in the moment. I wasn't ready for that moment to end.

It's not easy to get close to anyone in here, Tony. Everyone's afraid of everybody else...maybe because we are all afraid of ourselves.