Glass Ellen Hopkins Quotes Novels & Stories

"A happy soul is the best protector for a cruel world." - Atticus *** The woman who was just about to pass through the company lobby was silent standing in the left corner when her eyes accidentally saw the two people hugging each other so affectionately, as if sharing feelings that seemed to have been held for a long time without caring because can could become cheap gossip in the company about them. And by the way, why should she care about those who don't even care about herself and others?

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tunes without the words and never stops at all.” Emily Dickinson.

Thoughts of teetering on the glass bridge at the train station entered my head. Elliott answered. “Too obvious. Come on. You’ve got this.” I appreciated his vote of confidence and didn’t want to be a pain in the butt, but my feet were frozen on the sidewalk. “It’s too high. There’s no way I can jump up there.”

Broken shards of glass lay scattered on the floor, mirroring the shattered pieces of her heart. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting a silvery glow upon the chaos. Aria's eyes fixated on the fragmented reflection, the cracks becoming symbolic of the pain and confusion consuming her. She closed her eyes, a quote she had once read resurfacing in her mind. "Don't tell me the moon is shining. Show me a glint of light on broken glass."

“Same. With everything lately… it feels good to just forget and be happy.” I sat back, taking in their smiles, the full table, the golden afternoon light pouring through the windows. “It feels good to breathe,” I whispered. Sandy nudged me. “And it feels good to see you happy again, Carrie. This version of you, this glowing, confident you…I love her.” Ellen chimed in. “You deserve joy. Not crumbs. Never crumbs.” My eyes stung. I lifted my glass. “To friendship. To healing. And spending money irresponsibly.”

And unexpectedly, Eleanor's face appeared in my mind. Her fragile hand wrapped around mine. Her tired smile. Her voice. You've always been far too willing to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, my girl. A smile touched my lips. Then another memory surfaced. Her telling me that my mind was a gift. A gift no amount of Sterling money could ever buy. I swallowed hard. She had always believed in me. Even when I hadn't believed in myself. I opened my eyes and looked through the glass wall at the laboratory.

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die." He stared at her, "How about now? Did I say it well?"

“Why would I quote Woody Allen?” “Because great weirdos think alike. Look, you don’t have to believe me, but at least wait until we find the others. You remembered Flossie, maybe seeing them will jog your memory. It would have been nice if seeing me had done that, but hey, probably would have given me a big head or something.” That something being a sense of self-worth. But then we can’t have everything. “Fine,” said Jenny, slowly getting to her feet. “I’ll wait until we land. No point doing anything crazy up here.”

"Be your own beautiful, even when others tried to define you by their standards." [Jacqueline] ....... [Jacqueline's POV] I looked back at the crowd who were looking at us and whispering with each other. I heard a girl whose face was covered with thick makeup, say excitedly to her friend, "Does Nina know this fatty?"

Drink water? Hilda hurriedly entered, carefully glancing at Ellen Laura’s face. Hilda comforted herself in her heart, she said the first words softly, the lady must not have heard, although the last words were aimed at her, but are not all the truths that everyone knows?