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
mothers-day mom mother-daughter
The best place to cry is on a mother's arms.
confused mean where-you-are
I don't know what he means by that, but I nod and smile at him. You'd be surprised at how far that response can get you in a conversation where you are completely confused.
real infatuation persons
Infatuation's just another word for not seeing clearly. When you start to love a person- that's when they become real
jobs years curves
parenting isn't a noun but a verb--an ongoing process instead of an accomplishment. And that no matter how many years you put into the job, the learning curve is, well, fairly flat.
forgiving able never-forget
What was the point of being able to forgive, when deep down, you both had to admit you'd never forget?
revenge journey two
When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves: one for your enemy, and one for yourself.
want behavior worst
What we all want, really, is to be loved. That craving drives our worst behavior.
matter no-matter-what get-away
Polar north can't get away from a magnet; the magnet finds it, no matter what.
loss dialect different
Was there a language of loss? Did everyone who suffered speak a different dialect?
mean names
Just because you didn't put a name to something did not mean it wasn't there.
baby children parenting
I wondered how long it took for a baby to become yours, for familiarity to set in. Maybe as long as it took a new car to lose that scent, or a brand-new house to gather dust. Maybe that was the process more commonly described as bonding: the act of learning your child as well as you know yourself.
What you didn't tell someone was just as debilitating as what you did.
dad regret car
My dad used to say that living with regrets was like driving a car that only moved in reverse.
lying heart thinking
Sometimes I think there's a beast that lives inside me, in the cavern that's where my heart should be, and every now and then it fills every last inch of my skin, so that I can't help but do something inappropriate. Its breath is full of lies; it smells of spite.