sisters

Your tears are never invisible---there is always an insecure woman that lights up when you point them out.

At this point, none of us are sure why we fight. We__e sisters. We need no good reason to fight, even though we have plenty of them.

We__e not going to give in. We__e going to fight.___ot that right,_ a voice cried out.__irst thing we need to have clear: there__ no line between freak and normal here. If you have the power, we__l need you. If you don__, we__l need you.__eads were nodding. Looks were being exchanged.__oates kids, Perdido Beach kids, we__e together now. We__e together. Maybe you did things to survive. Maybe you weren__ always brave. Maybe you gave up hope.__ girl sobbed suddenly.__ell, that__ all over now,_ Sam said gently. __t all starts fresh. Right here, right now. We__e brothers and sisters now. Doesn__ matter we don__ know each other__ names, we are brothers and sisters and we__e going to survive, and we__e going to win, and we__e going to find our way to some kind of happiness again.__here was a long, deep silence.__o,_ Sam said, __y name is Sam. I__ in this with you. All the way._ He turned to Astrid.____ Astrid, I__ in this with you, too.___y name is Edilio. What they said. Brothers and sisters. Hermanos.___huan Vong,_ said a thin boy with yet-unhealed hands like dead fish. ____ in.___ekka,_ said a strong, solidly built girl with cornrows and a nose ring. ____ in. And I have game.___e too,_ called a skinny girl with reddish pigtails. __y name__ Brianna. I_well, I can go real fast.__ne by one they declared their determination. The voices started out soft and gained strength. Each voice louder, firmer, more determined than the one before.Only Quinn remained silent. He hung his head, and tears rolled down his cheeks.__uinn,_ Sam called to him.Quinn didn__ respond, just looked down at the ground.__uinn,_ Sam said again. __t starts fresh right now. Nothing before counts. Nothing. Brothers, man?__uinn struggled with the lump in his throat. But then, in a low voice, he said, __eah. Brothers.

We could endlessly reminisce, live in the past to an unhealthy degree, then politely kill each other some winter night before bedtime, stirring poison into our cups of whiskey-spiked chamomile tea, wearing party hats. Then, nervous about our double homicide, we could lie in bed together, holding hands again, frightened and waiting, still wondering, after all these years, if we even believed in our own souls.

We are angels just like the rest of our brothers and sisters.

You know why I really hated you? With all that you had you were just so oblivious to it all. You didn't use your beauty. You didn't ever try to get what you wanted. You didn't deserve what you had. I did because I would have used it. And you just...loved me. Loved me no matter what I did. You have no idea how I despised you for that. I wanted you gone."'The Yielding

When we were little, Scarlett and I were utterly convinced that we'd originally been one person in our mother's belly. We believed that somehow, half of us wanted to be born and half wanted to stay. So our heart had to be broken in two so that Scarlett could be born first, and then I finally braved the outside world a few years later. It made sense, in our pig-tailed heads--it explained why, when we ran through grass or danced or spun in circle long enough, we would lose track of who was who and it started to feel as if there were some organic, elegant link between us, our single heart holding the same tempo and pumping the same blood. That was before the attack, though. Now our hearts link only when we're hunting, when Scarlett looks at me with a sort of beautiful excitement that's more powerful than her scars and then tears after a Fenris as though her life depends on its death. I follow, always, because it's the only time when our hearts beat in perfect harmony, the only time when I'm certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we are one person broken in two.

Who knows? Maybe you both live happily ever after, or maybe three months from now you end the relationship because he doesn't squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom...nothing is guaranteed." - Olivia Harper, Secret Need

But what if the monsters come?""Fancy." Kit looked away from the drama to stare at her sister, surprised. "We are the monsters.

I would consider all women as my mother but not all girls as my sisters.

I have a sister, so I know-that relationship, it's all about fairness: you want your sibling to have exactly what you have-the same amount of toys, the same number of meatballs on your spaghetti, the same share of love. But being a mother is completely different. You want your child to have more than you ever did. You want to build a fire underneath her and watch her soar. It's bigger than words.

We don't even know we are family of faith?

The knowledge of death seemed present in both sisters__t was something about the way they carried themselves, something that had broken too soon and had not mended, marking them in spite of their lightheartedness.

It is well known that a man, when wooing a lady to be his wife, must first win over the females she most confides in__er friends, of course, and her sister, if she has one.

Oak, granite,Lilies by the road,Remember me?I remember you.Clouds brushingClover hills,Remember me?Sister, child,Grown tall,Remember me?I remember you.

Nobody could hold the same place in your heart as your sister. Love or hate her, she was the only person who grew up exactly like you, who knew the secrets of your household__he laughter that only the walls of your house contained or the screaming at a level low enough the neighbors couldn__ hear, the passive aggressive compliments or the little put-downs. Only your sister could know how it felt to grow up in the house that made you you.

Pleading for forgiveness was always on the tip of her tongue. She had tried doing a good thing, but because of one thoughtless act, his two beautiful daughters were brutally raped, and running to the other side of the world hadn__ helped. Because of her, two innocent ADP employees were dead. She was older but not a shekel wiser, still opening the wrong doors.

Not only had my brother disappeared, but--and bear with me here--a part of my very being had gone with him. Stories about us could, from them on, be told from only one perspective. Memories could be told but not shared.