Unlikely Story Ali Rosen Quotes

Life is meant to be lived. Books end—they have a trajectory and then a conclusion—but people go on. Messy, predictable, messing-up people. We fall down and get up with no guarantee we won’t fall down all over again. Nothing is tidy, and there are no neat bows. Each of us is a hundred different versions of ourselves with different people, and they all converge into a single flawed human.

Reading makes you empathetic to other human experience. It takes you to other worlds! It teaches you about other places, careers, people, regions, cultures.

But as an individual, it’s just a waste of your own time to keep things from your therapist.

Being up on your roof all night with a dude you can’t decide if you want to murder or bone? Yeah, that must’ve been hard.

Neurosis is just a high-class word for whining.

Life is meant to be lived. Books end—they have a trajectory and then a conclusion—but people go on. Messy, predictable, messing-up people. We fall down and get up with no guarantee we won’t fall down all over again. Nothing is tidy, and there are no neat bows.

We don’t need to get everything from one person, but a true partnership shouldn’t ever feel lonely because you should naturally be yourself in it. Vulnerability is the antidote to loneliness. If you’re feeling disconnected from your partner, there’s some part of you that’s holding back.

Loneliness exists in so many relationships—more than you would imagine. I don’t think being in a relationship is a barometer for that. Some people are naturally lonelier than others, some people haven’t found someone they can be themselves with, and others just are going through a phase where they feel disconnected.

Unlike our first kiss—frantic and reckless—this one is sure. It’s full throttle, needy, but undoubting. It’s hands in my hair, gripping like they’re never letting go. It’s deep sighs and hungry gasps and—a whistle from a bystander that makes us break apart with a sheepish grin.

I don’t care if the house has flowers or if we decorate for holidays—so why should I have to do it? I never was affectionate—why should I have to be all of a sudden now that the kids aren’t there to give that to you? I’m relishing the quiet of the kids out of the house—why are you taking that

personally? I don’t want to retire—why do I have to?” She turns back to me. “It’s not personal. It’s not aimed at hurting Cassie. It’s just me.” It’s like watching Dorothy walking into Technicolor Oz. We just had to reveal the possibilities. The permission to chip away at

going to instantly stop all the nagging. I don’t think Shauna is suddenly going to stop ever tuning out.

safe. Life is meant to be lived. Books end—they have a trajectory and then a conclusion—but people go on. Messy, predictable, messing-up people. We fall down and get up with no guarantee we won’t fall down all over again. Nothing is tidy, and there are no neat bows. Each of us is a hundred different versions of ourselves with different people, and they all converge into a single flawed human.

Even when she’s lightly teasing me, I’m at ease in her presence. Dane makes me feel comfortable because she never requires anything of me.

I think she wears all the exterior armor so she can claim to be antisocial. But then again, maybe it’s actually less that and more just decisiveness—

I don't want to be a person who always keeps everything safe. Life is meant to be lived. Books end — they have a trajectory and then a conclusion — but people go on. Messy, predictable, messing-up people. We fall down and get up with no guarantee we won't fall down all over again/ Nothing is tidy, and there are no neat bows. Each of us is a hundred different versions of ourselves with different people, and they all converge into a single flawed human.

We’re all the sum of all the many, many people who’ve loved and loathed us, and everything in between. That can’t possibly be quantified.

I think . . . I think I’m in love with a man I’ve never met or even spoken to?

That’s what my job is—little sweeps at the pebbles in our way, until one day, hopefully, the path is clear enough that we can walk without stumbling.

Being able to build a life where I get to introvert alone is one of the greatest advantages to aging.

I look over at Eli sleeping. It’s adorable seeing him so peaceful instead of in his normal whirl. And he’s got one arm lazily lying on me, and the other is . . . oh my god, he’s actually holding hands (paws?) with one of the cats. I don’t know whether to giggle or melt. It might be the cutest, most wholesome way I’ve ever woken up with a man.

For a person who reads the last chapter first, I get that going out on a limb with J was already hard. There’s a lot of unknown here. And now it’s palpable. He’s a real person.

Just like the last couple of pages.” I cross my arms across my chest, armor against his disbelief. “The whole point is to wonder how it ends. That’s a crime. That should be officially entered as a criminal act. You can’t read the ending before you even start!

It’s comforting!” I explain with a shrug. “You can get into the story and the details without all the anxiety of not knowing what’s ahead.

Intimate stranger” really is a perfect way to describe it. The freedom to be intimate with someone you don’t know, who you’ve realized understands you better than some of your closest people, has been a gift.

We’re all the sum of all the many, many people who’ve loved and loathed us, and everything in between.

You absolutely deserve more than feeling lonely.

Yes, I do skim the last chapter of a book before reading it. I don’t like the stress of not knowing. But ever since she found out a few years ago, she’s loved to

I think it’s lucky to even have one friend who you feel actually knows you. Loneliness exists in so many relationships—more than you would imagine. I don’t think being in a relationship is a barometer for that. Some people are naturally lonelier than others, some people haven’t found someone they can be themselves with, and others just are going through a phase where they feel disconnected. But I’d lean into the relationships and friendships that do feel real—even if it isn’t necessarily the person you would’ve expected it to be, if it’s bringing you some peace, I wouldn’t question it.

I hate that whatever tentative move we’ve made toward reality is potentially being questioned by my inadvertent silence.

Dane was right when she said written words were more measured—my words today weren’t expressed as they should’ve been, so I let actions choose the course.

Books end—they have a trajectory and then a conclusion—but people go on. Messy, predictable, messing-up people. We fall down and get up with no guarantee we won’t fall down all over again. Nothing is tidy, and there are no neat bows. Each of us is a hundred different versions of ourselves with different people, and they all converge into a single flawed human.