Jodi Picoult
Jodi Picoult
Jodi Lynn Picoultis an American author. She was awarded the New England Bookseller Award for fiction in 2003. Picoult currently has approximately 14 million copies of her books in print worldwide...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
Date of Birth19 May 1966
CountryUnited States of America
what-matters matter opinion
I've always sort of wondered: If everyone else's opinion is what matters, then do you ever really have one of your own?
believe stills hard
You can believe something really hard,' Faith says, 'and still be wrong.
sweet-love giving missing
What if love wasn't the act of finding what you were missing but the give-and-take that made you both match?
choices humans
It's choice that makes us human.
disappointing knows
It's disappointing to know that someone can see right through you.
eye light oxygen
At 17, the smallest crises took on tremendous proportions; someone else's thoughts could take root in the loam of your own mind; having someone accept you was as vital as oxygen. Adults, light years away from this, rolled their eyes and smirked and said, 'This too shall pass' - as if adolescence was a disease like chicken pox, something everyone recalled as a milk nuisance, completely forgetting how painful it had been at the time.
sometimes wonder my-sisters-keeper
I sometimes wonder if it is just me, or if there are other women who figure out where they are supposed to be by going nowhere.
baby children sleep
You are only as invincible as your smallest weakness, and those are tiny indeed - the length of a sleeping baby's eyelash, the span of a child's hand. Life turns on a dime, and - it turns out - so does one's conscience.
love suicide pain
and he suddenly knew that if she killed herself, he would die. Maybe not immediately, maybe not with the same blinding rush of pain, but it would happen. You couldn't live for very long without a heart.
eye i-love-him sight
So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him, you swallowed him whole. Love was substance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream.
baby stars father
What I really want to tell him is to pick up that baby of his and hold her tight, to set the moon on the edge of her crib and to hang her name up in the stars.
ocean silence arms
Sometimes there aren't words. The silence between us is flung wide as an ocean. But I manage to reach across it, to wrap my arms around him.
hurt riding-your-bike tumbling-down
Do you know how sometimes - when you are riding your bike and you start skidding across sand, or when you miss a step and start tumbling down the stairs - you have those long, long seconds to know that you are going to be hurt, and badly?
pain differences one-day
And the very act of living is a tide; at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded