“Friendship is about more than facts. It's about knowing what someone is thinking, or knowing enough to know that you don't. But I guess it's also about not letting too much time go by without asking them questions, so you don't end up looking at them one afternoon, the sun so bright you have to squint, realizing that you hardly recognize the person they've become.”
Nina LaCour“I was such a quiet kid, so shy and calm and in my own head. Of course I knew about being sad. Maybe that's the reason I saved all the things I thought were pretty.”
Nina LaCour, Hold Still“I sleep through the next day. Each time I go to the bathroom, I try not to look in the mirror. Once, I catch my reflection: it looks like I’ve been punched in both eyes.I can’t talk about the day that follows that.”
Nina LaCour, Hold Still“He is Romeo, and he is heartbroken. Every word is wistful. When he says, 'O, teach me how I should forget to think!' I, for the first time, see what the big deal is about Shakespeare.”
Nina LaCour, Hold Still“I leaned over the sink, closer to my reflection, and stare at myself hard. I don't know what I see. I don't even know what I want to see.”
Nina LaCour“People take one another for granted”
Nina LaCour“I never realized what a big deal that was. How amazing it is to find someone who wants to hear about all the things that go on in your head. You just think that things will stay the way they are. You never look up, in a moment that feels like every other moment in your life, and think, "Soon this will be over". But I understand more now. About the way life works.”
Nina LaCour“I imagine what would happen if everyone turned their regrets into wishes, went around shouting them.”
Nina LaCour“We were nostalgic for a time that wasn't yet over.”
Nina LaCour, We Are Okay“We take a last look out of the window at the night, and I send a silent wish to everyone out there for this kind of warmth.”
Nina LaCour, We Are Okay“We felt so small with the city lights stretching forever below us, and we yelled at the top of our lungs because we were just these small humans but we felt more longing than could ever fit inside us.”
Nina LaCour, The Disenchantments