Sarah Skilton Quotes & Sayings

It's us. It's you and me. I don't care about any of this stuff. We can go home; we can go back to my gym and just work out if you want. I don't care. We don't have to do "normal" things. We can just be us. What we have isn't normal; and I don't see why it should be. — Sarah Skilton

The heart is a muscle like any other. Tearing it down is the only way to make it stronger. — Sarah Skilton

So you and Bridget spent the better part of last night and early morning texting each other questionable messages?" Mom asked.
"I think it's called 'sexting,'" said Dad. It was the worst sentence uttered in the history of my life. — Sarah Skilton

Greetings, Mother!" I say sarcastically when I walk through the front door. "Greetings, Father!"
No one responds.
This is beyond stupid.
"Greetings, family," I scream.
"What are you doing?" calls Hunter from upstairs.
"Children's Home Rule number one: Children will greet their parents when they come home, and say good-bye to them when they leave."
"Oh my God, are you like, reverting?"
"Greetings, Brother."
A pause.
"Greetings, Sister. — Sarah Skilton

People mess up, you know? But you can't see past it. It's like you choose one thing about them - the worst thing - and say, 'That's who they are,' and ignore the rest of it. Why not choose the best thing about them instead? Or the thing they do the most? — Sarah Skilton

Mrs. Hamilton told me teenagers are resilient, that we'll bounce back," he scoffs. "And I'm thinking, Okay. When?"
I don't remember Mrs. Hamilton saying that, but I've heard the theory before. That the younger you are, the quicker you can normalize an event and move on, because you don't know any other way of life. It just becomes a small part of your narrative as the years go by. But it seems to me the younger you are when something bad happens to you, the longer you have to carry it with you. — Sarah Skilton

The idea was to anger the drama kids, not hurt any of them. I'm not a deer hunter. I decided to prey on their most basic, cherished fear. "This play sucks! No one likes it. Not even the junior high bloggers will review this lame excuse for a Moliere," I yelled, and chucked tomatillos at the stager, over, under, and past the ducking, traumatized performers in French aristocrat costumes. — Sarah Skilton