Lisa Unger quotes: wise famous quotes, sayings and quotations by Lisa Unger

Lisa Unger Famous Quotes & Sayings

Discover top inspirational quotes from Lisa Unger on Wise Famous Quotes.

I live for the blank page.

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep. - John Milton, Paradise Lost

Isn't it funny how the people least impacted by tragedy are the most eager to move on?

Maybe I have this fascination with the dark side because I live in the light. I don't have any dysfunction, and I've never experienced trauma.

Hope is good. Without it, well, you do the math. But hope has to be like a prayer. Putting it out there to something more powerful than yourself.

The Universe doesn't like secrets. It conspires to reveal the truth, to lead you to it.

You were never so acutely aware of your own flaws as you were in the presence of your child. Why was that? The

When our actions and choices are based on fear and denial ... Well, nothing good can come of that. Ever.

I've had my fill of cool, Willow. These days it's kindness, honesty, and stability that impress me.

It was the dawn of a new day that Birdie prized. It was God's little reminder that no matter how dark the night, the sun always rises.

You [meaning mothers] said good-bye a little every day
from the minute they left your body until they left your home.

But then again, we're all on death row, aren't we? Most of us just don't know it.

I should have been sending up flares, instead I was offering smiles.

You didn't wind up on a pole without a lot of help from your family.

things disappear and are never found simply because there's too much ground to cover.

The human mind, with all its mystery, bears endless study. Doesn't it?

I write for the same reason I read: to find out what's going to happen.

There's nothing particularly dark in my past ... I live in the light. My disposition is basically happy. I have a good life.

In their predictable lives, where everything

I love the village in my computer. There's little validation in the day-to-day life of a writer; sometimes we ache for a connection.

Ralph Waldo Emerson thought of weeds as plants whose virtues had not yet been discovered.

Some bolts and then a door opened onto Eleventh

In my research about the patient-therapist relationship, as well as the particular

Everything is autobiographical, and nothing is autobiographical. That's fiction.

Publishing is a business of relationships. The relationships you make at one house can carry over to another.

Not that she didn't about fighting losing battles.

We can't hold on to anyone or anything, you know. We lose everything except that which we carry within us.

The past is history. The future is a mystery. The present is a gift.

What we think of as our "gut instincts" are really a very complex mosaic of past experiences, deep-seated hopes, fears, desires.

He didn't seem like the sharpest tool in the shed.

Back. But no, she couldn't have allowed it. She couldn't allow the shame, the disgrace. The very idea that he'd leave her for

Eloise thought that justice was a funny thing. It was a big idea, a romantic one. It was imagined like a satisfying end to a story.

You can put on a mask and a costume for the rest of the world, but you can't hide from the people who changed your diapers.

Dysfunction isn't a choice, it's a disease.

Who you marry, what you choose as your profession, how you were raised - yes, that is the big picture. But, as they say, the devil's in the details.

I didn't see the point of judging and analyzing a single moment in someone's life.

Said. I've heard enough. From

Anger is not the absence of love. Anger broke you apart. Love and anger wrap around each other and becomes one living thing inside your heart.

Even if someone is overcome with rage, it takes amazing arrogance to kill.

Adopt the pace of nature, said Ralph Waldo Emerson. Her secret is patience. Ray

When we put on clothes, we're telling ourselves something, and we're communicating that something to every person we meet.

But there was something more true, more solid about loving someone through change.

When you're young it's easy to confuse passion for love.

Is the prey complicit in its own demise? Are we not seduced in some small way by the beauty, the grace, even the dangerous soul of the predator?

I don't remember a time when I didn't define myself as a writer.

It sounded to him like the noise of too many mouths that talk and too few minds that think.

Birdie wondered why that so often seemed to be the case - once you had what you wanted, it was a shadow of what you'd dreamed it to be.

Everyone always talks about how well mothers know their children. No one ever seems to notice how well children know their mothers.

Truman Capote was a magical, beautiful writer.

Many people believe that evil is the presence of something. I think it's the absence of something.

But words are all we have, their essence the only passage into our centers, the only way we can make people feel what we feel

Each of us extracted different people from our parents by our personalities and hence we had different experiences growing up.

Give up, she wanted to tell them. You lost. The world is crap, and no amount of communicating is going to change it.

Anyone who used the word hip probably wasn't.

In the end, I cared about him so much that I just thought he deserved someone who loved him more than I did.

Denial: my family heritage. If you don't ask the questions, the truth will never inconvenience you.

You cannot hope for change in others, you can only work toward it in yourself. And that's hard work.

It must be the ultimate punishment, don't you think, to finally gain wisdom, only to realize that the consequences of your actions are irrevocable?

Energy cannot be created or destroyed. It can only change form.

The girl with the pictures on her skin

The universe conspires to reveal the truth and to make your path easy if you have the courage to follow the signs.

Uselessness, she thought, was the permanent condition of parenthood.

The years grew over that embrace like a vine.

She wanted to take those words back. But they were out, shattering in the air all around them, slicing them both.

The business of writing a novel is a long, meandering road into the self, into the imagination. And it's a road the writer travels alone.

Ah, gym class. Remember it? Institutionally sanctioned torture for society's misfits.

Judgment is such a useful shield, isn't it? We can hide behind it, rise above others on its crest, keep ourselves safe and separate.

Fear holds on. Love lets go.

Fear holds on. Love lets go. "Yes,

Love accepts. Forgiveness comes in time.

It's strange how memory gets twisted and pulled like taffy in its retelling, how a single event can mean something different to everyone present.

Love, a promise delivered already broken.

Shock is the stepsister of denial. It cushions the blow to your psyche when really fucked up things happen.

Life is an impossible twist of choice and circumstance. One rarely exists without the other.

Bored people looked for drama and caused trouble.

Every couple starts off loving each other, don't they? It's how a relationship ends that really defines its nature.

She did love him, in that way that teenage girls love, like a lemming. Which is not love, of course.

Alafair Burke is one of the finest young crime writers working today.

The truth has not so much set us free as it has ripped away a carefully constructed facade, leaving us naked to begin again.

I definitely feel that plot flows from character. I don't believe that you can construct a plot and insert people into it.

I was always the observer, trying to understand what was going on. I was always the new kid. Writing became my safe place.

I love the way Beck loves. If everyone loved like she did, the world would be a better place.

If I weren't a writer, I'd be a psychiatrist.

'In Cold Blood' is not a thriller at all, really. It is, however, the first work of its kind: a true crime book that reads like fiction.

An awareness of your own worth is the most attractive quality in the world.

Motherhood was an ever widening circle of good-byes.

The woman I was seems hopelessly naive. I envy her.

Choices turned to consequences, opinions turned to judgments, and admiration turned to envy. Envy curdled everything, like lemon in milk.