David Levithan Quotes

We found out a long time ago that we weren’t meant to fall in love with each other. But a part of me still fell in hope with him.

To get something you must give something away. To hold something you must give something away. To love something you must give something away.

It was a laugh that came from the tip of his toes, gaining force and soul as it traveled through his body and out into the world in mirthful bursts. There wasn't anything fake about it; it was an amusement park of a laugh, and when it appeared, you wanted to jump on board.

Your humor is your compass and your shield. You can hone it into a weapon or you can pull its strands out to make your very own cotton-candy blanket. You can’t exist on a diet of humor alone, but you can’t exist on a diet without it, either.

I don’t want to throw everything away for something uncertain.

The key to a successful relationship isn’t just in the words, it’s in the choice of punctuation. When you’re in love with someone, a well-placed question mark can be the difference between bliss and disaster, and a deeply respected period or a cleverly inserted ellipsis can prevent all kinds of exclamations.

We always see our worst selves. Our most vulnerable selves. We need someone else to get close enough to tell us we’re wrong. Someone we trust.

Her mind is an unquiet one, words and thoughts and impulses constantly crashing into each other.

So what do you have to confess now?" I don't know why I'm saying any of this, except that is the truth. "I'm confessing that I don't know if I'm ready for this." "What is 'this'?" "Being open. Being hurt. Liking. Not being liked. Seeing the flicker on. Seeing the flicker off. Leaping. Falling. Crashing.

Yesterday is another world. I want to go back there.

There's no way for them to take away my sadness, but they can make sure I am not empty of all the other feelings.

Honestly, I'm just trying to live day to day

Are you going to be playing for the pure thrill of unreluctant desire?

He is much stronger than I think I am. He is mischievous, outgoing, ready to soar through the clouds, while I often feel like the cloud itself.

Let me hold on to this the way it was, before I knew anything else.

I never have people tell me their stories. I usually have to figure them out myself. Because I know that if people tell me stories, they will expect them to be remembered. And I cannot guarantee that. There is no way to know if the stories stay after I'm gone. And how devastating would it be to confide in someone and have the confidence disappear? I don't want to be responsible for that.

What a strange phrase — –not seeing other people. As if it’s been constructed to be a lie. We see other people all the time. The question is what we do about it.

aloof, adj. It has always been my habit, ever since junior high school, to ask that question: “What are you thinking?” It is always an act of desperation, and I keep on asking, even though I know it will never work the way I want it to.

I am learning that a life isn't real unless someone else knows its reality. And I want my life to be real.

It's like, you know how sometimes you see a really sexy baby? Wait.

Things rarely get fixed the way they need to be.

Part of growing up is making sure your sense of reality isn't entirely grounded in your own mind.

When I am with you, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. And I am a person who always wants to be somewhere else.

Which is more stubborn, the love or the two arguing people caught within it?

I see Nick's number. I debate whether to assign a name to his number. If I commit to that, then I will truly be heartbroken if he never calls me again; my heart will knot each and every time I use this phone and see his name in there. I would probably end up having to trash the phone entirely.

But isn't this a dance? Isn't all of this a dance? Isn't that what we do with words? Isn't that what we do when we talk, when we spar, when we make plans or leave it to chance? Some of it's choreographed. Some of the steps have been done for ages. And the rest -- the rest is spontaneous. The rest has to be decided on the floor, in the moment, before the music ends.

Please may this not be a game. Please may this not be a game. Because if it’s a game, I know I’m going to lose.

I find faith in human perseverance, even as the universe throws challenge after challenge our way.

Feeling someone else's anger is bad; being left alone is worse.

All I get is tomorrow.

I have taken advantage of other people's weaknesses in order to cover my own.

I feel such a tenderness for these vulnerable nighttime conversations, the way words take a different shape in the air when there's no light in the room.

I barely notice colors unless I taste them. Not the yellows or the greens. I taste the deeper blues. The darker reds.

There are boys so enraptured by love that they can't get their hearts to slow down enough to get some rest, and other boys so damaged by love that they can't stop picking at their pain.

Your life is inescapable. Unless you decide to escape it.

I feel the universe is telling me something. And it doesn't even matter if it's true or not. What matters is that I feel it, and believe it.

There has to be a moment at the beginning where you wonder whether you’re in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself. If the moment doesn’t pass, that’s it—you’re done. And if the moment does pass, it never goes that far. It stands in the distance, ready for whenever you want it back. Sometimes it’s even there when you thought you were searching for something else, like an escape route, or your lovers’ face.

Even if you were green and had a beard and a male appendage between your legs. Even if your eyebrows were orange and you had a mole covering your entire cheek and a nose that poked me in the eye every time I kissed you. Even if you weighed seven hundred pounds and had hair the size of a Doberman under your arms. Even then, I would love you.

I am a drifter, and as lonely as that can be, it is also remarkably freeing. I will never define myself in terms of anyone else.

I guess I don't believe these things can ever be easy, although I also don't see why they have to be hard.

you ask me what I'm looking for, and I outline you. you don't recognize the shape, offer other names. you say my time will come, and I hope.

You leave the phone on beside you as you fall asleep. I sit in my bed and listen to your breathing, until I know you are safe, until I know you no longer need me for the night.

Neophyte, n. There are millions upon millions of people who have been through this before-- why is it that no one can give my good advice?

Because what's the point of something virtual if it doesn't end up being real?

it is so unfair that he lives in ohio, because that should be close enough, but since neither of us drives and neither of us would ever in a million years say, 'hey, mom, do you want to drive me across indiana to see a boy?,' we're kind of stuck.

I'm not good at relationships I always manage to find the flaws sometimes in others but mostly my own. I foretell the ending then go and create the cause save myself and end up alone

If I'm not telling you something, it's for a reason. Just because you trust me, it doesn't mean I have to automatically trust you. Trust doesn't work like that.

I hope suffering don't exist.