Truth Bomb Quotes

“Laura, this isn't love. Love lets you go on a trip without following you. Love can live without you for a week, knowing you'll come back.'

'No, it can't.' The afternoon shadows grew long and cold. In spite of the chill, a heat rose up inside her and flooded her face. 'That's how you know it's true love. When he can't live without you.'

Karen shook her head. 'That's how you know it's obsession. Or something else.”
― Natalie Standiford, The Boy on the Bridge

“Moderation kills.”
― Joel Fuhrman, M.D., Eat to Live: The Revolutionary Formula for Fast and Sustained Weight Loss

“This might baffle you, but despite not being a physician, I do have some pride. Although most certainly not enough to withstand the kind of beating you're capable of dealing it. The kind of beating you've repeatedly dealt it from the first time we've met. You're right, I value honesty, so I'll tell you that I make it a practice not to find women who insult me at every opportunity attractive."
Color flooded her cheeks and traveled down her neck. Finally, she stepped away from him, too, and found the back of a chair to clutch. She looked entirely devastated. Had no one ever denied her anything? He hated the hurt in her eyes. But it was done now.
"How is telling you I'm attracted to you an insult?"
He pressed the back of his hand into his forehead. It made him feel like a drama queen in some sort of musical farce. Which this had to be. "Telling me how unworthy I am of your attraction, that's the insulting part. And, no, that's not all it is. Even if you hadn't told me at every opportunity how inferior to you I am... all I do is cook... every assumption you've made about me is insulting. Culinary school is definitely college. And Le Cordon Bleu is one of the most competitive institutions in the world. The fact that that's so wholly incomprehensible to you... that's the insulting part. And it wasn't thrown in my overly privileged lap either. I had to work my bottom off to make it in."
Ammaji had sold her dowry jewels to pay for his application, something her family would have thrown her out on the street for had they found out.
Trisha squared her shoulders, the devastation draining fast from her face, leaving behind the self-possession he was so much more used to. And the speed with which she gathered herself shook something inside him. "I might not do what you see as important work, but I work hard at being a decent human being, and I would need anyone I'm with to be that first and foremost. Even if I didn't find snobbery in general incredibly unattractive, I would never go anywhere near a person as self-absorbed and arrogant as you, Dr. Raje. I would have to be insane to subject myself to your view of me and the world."
"Wow." She was panting, or maybe it was him. He couldn't be sure.
"You wanted honesty. I'm sorry if I hurt you."
She cleared her throat. "I'm surprised you think someone as... as... self-absorbed and arrogant as me is even capable of being hurt.”
― Sonali Dev, Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors

“The truth you know has all been a lie.”
― A.D. Aliwat, In Limbo

“If you're worried that her wheelchair is an issue," John said, "I'll just remind you that your personality handicap hasn't stopped us from being friends."
Puzzled, Sam frowned. "What personality handicap?"
"Your inability to see things that are staring you in the face.”
― Sara Desai, The Marriage Game

“The main thing socially intelligent people understand is that your relationship to everyone else is an extension of your relationship to yourself.”
― Brianna Weist

“Once again we return to the heart-warming realization that games are not life. Games are throwaway items. We play them only because we feel like playing them. They don't mean anything for real, and neither does quitting them.”
― Bernie DeKoven, The Well-Played Game: A Player's Philosophy

“Everybody kills everybody, given the chance.”
― A.D. Aliwat, In Limbo

“Yash's happiness is in being governor of California. Then moving on to even bigger things. I'm the one who will get him there. You're the one who will get in his way."
Every time India thought she could walk away without answering, the woman said something that made it impossible. "And you don't care how you get there? You don't care that you're holding him to ransom when all he was doing was helping you? You don't care that you've turned him into a crutch?"
Naina paled at that. India had hit a nerve. But every aha moment fought you. That's what made the journey so hard.”
― Sonali Dev, Incense and Sensibility

“But I wonder how much of this crime lies on my shoulders," she added quietly, to herself. "Too slow, too lazy, unable to make decisions... well, the evil is spread around, and some of it may be mine, Princess."
"I. Am not. A princess!" Rapunzel tried to keep her voice under control in deference to the old lady. She ground her teeth to keep from screaming.
"But of course you are," the old lady said in mild surprise. "You are the Crown Princess Rapunzel, daughter of King Frederic and Queen Arianna, heir to the throne.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Teasdale doesn't have money for an attorney," he said. "Especially one from Boston. Who are you, really?"
Sidney lifted her chin. "An attorney from Boston."
"You don't sound like it."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Like an attorney?"
He scoffed. "No, you have that droning drivel down. You don't sound Boston."
She shrugged. "I didn't start out there."
"You sound like Sawyer," he said with a nod toward wherever Sawyer had headed. She refused to turn around to find out.
"Well, I'm sure there are more than just two of us from---"
"You know him," Crane said, narrowing his eyes.
Sidney's tongue faltered, and she cleared her throat.
"You're from the same place, aren't you?" he asked. "The same little hick town."
"Because we both have an accent?" she asked, laughing, hoping it would cover up her lie.
"Because of how I just saw him look at you," Crane said, studying Sidney with a grin. "Like a lovesick schoolboy. Holy shit, you're her>."
Sidney's breath felt trapped in her chest, unable to move in or out, just held captive there. Sawyer had a her? And she was it? "I---I'm who?"
"The girl he came to town all messed up over," Crane said, crossing his own arms. "A hundred years ago. Well, well, well."
All messed up over.
After punching out his own father.
Defending her.
Damn it if all her carefully constructed and ancient defenses weren't crumbling around her regarding him. The boy who shattered her already shaky confidence. The reason she bitterly swore off love and dove into work, into making herself a hard and formidable beast. A beast without people skills but still. And now...
"We were friends in high school, yes," Sidney managed to push out, her voice sounding decidedly wobbly. "That has no bearing on Mr. Teasdale's case."
"Which came to you how, again?" Crane asked.
Sidney smiled. "I'll ask the questions."
Crane winked, and she so much wanted to slug him. "Nice deflection. What firm are you with?"
"Finley and Blossom."
"Blossom?" he asked. And it wasn't about the name. It was recognition. Shit.
"Yes, sir."
"His damn niece," Crane said, slapping a big hand against the ladder. "I forgot she was a lawyer. Damn it. She sent you."
Oh, seven kinds of hell, now this wall was disintegrating, too. She needed a suit of armor.
"Everything okay?" said a voice from directly behind her. A voice that sent shock waves to all her nether regions, especially coupled with thee hand that rested on the back of her neck. Crap, she needed more than armor. Sidney needed a force field.
"I work for her," Sidney said, ignoring Sawyer's question and fighting the urge to settle back against him.
"And you need to bring back the win," Crane said, chuckling.
God help her if she was ever up against this asshole in court.”
― Sharla Lovelace, The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine

“It's a cozy little thought, isn't it? All of us under one roof, even the Gentle Lord. You sent me to die in just the next room."
Father's jaw clenched. "I sent you to save our world," he ground out.
"I'm your daughter," I spat. "Didn't it ever, for a single moment, occur to you that you should try to save me?"
"Of course I wanted to save you," Father said patiently, "but for the sake of Arcadia--"
"You weren't thinking of Arcadia when you bargained with the Gentle Lord. And I'm not sure you were thinking much of Mother, either, because if you really loved her, you would have found a way to save both the daughters she wanted so much." I bared my teeth. "Or at least you wouldn't have spent the last five years bedding her sister.”
― Rosamund Hodge, Cruel Beauty

“So that's why you're here. You're trying to help out Tita Rosie."
I looked her in the eye. "Just because I left doesn't mean I was never there for my family. We all help in whatever way we can. Not all the Macapagal kids are deadbeats.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Arsenic and Adobo

“There is nowhere to "arrive" to. The only thing you're rushing towards is death. Accomplishing goals is not success. How much you expand in the process is.”
― Brianna Weist

“Forgive me, but," he begins, and I know this can be going nowhere good, "what about the men who watch our channel? Do we really want to look so biased? We can't alienate half our viewership."
I see Katherine open her mouth to respond, but then I must enter some kind of alternate reality in which I think I'm the best one to take these questions, as I open my big mouth and beat her to the punch. "Who's to say they'll be alienated, though? Men watch plenty of TV shows and movies led by women. Or if they don't, they certainly should. We've been put through five million Fast and the Furious and James Bond movies, for goodness' sake. And if they're opposed to watching and learning from women, because they think we're boring or don't get our perspectives, well, I reckon they're part of the problem."
I fold my arms over my chest defiantly, then lose my remaining nerve and avert my eyes from those of the CEO. When I look at the other women instead, they're all staring at me with some measure of shock, some looking amused and impressed on top of that.
Katherine is the first one to shake herself out of it and narrows her gaze on Geoffrey Block, CEO, once more. "It may also be of interest to you that if this series doesn't happen at Friends of Flavor, I plan on hosting it on my personal site, the Kat's Muse. I have advertisers who have long expressed interest in helping me launch my own videos, but I've been reluctant to take any of FoF's thunder. I would feel obligated to make it clear, though, that I was only hosting the series because this channel had rejected the proposal."
My jaw drops along with Katherine's figurative mic. She kept that little contingency plan from us yesterday, but damn. Of course she had a secret weapon in her back pocket.
Lily pipes up, "And if you all didn't know, men do not make up half of Friends of Flavor viewers. More like thirty percent. Meaning women are seventy percent. Maybe worth looking at who's really getting alienated."
Well okay, Lily. For someone who spends so much of the time off in her own mental universe, she sure knows how to pop back down to earth and spit facts when needed.”
― Kaitlyn Hill, Love from Scratch

“I thought I could be what you wanted, but I can't."
"And what is that?"
"An inflatable doll you can fuck and then let the air out of. So you can roll it up and shove it in that closet where you shove everything you don't want anyone to see.”
― Sonali Dev, The Emma Project

“I don't get it. Why won't the twins accept me? Now that I think about it, they are a big reason why I feel like an outsider. An imposter here. "Don't you ever get tired? Of being so mean? First, you call me a gaijin." A fresh wave of humiliation hits me, remembering how they'd spat the word at me at the prime minister's wedding reception. "Then you tried to trick me with that dress."
Noriko squints at me. "What dress?"
"For the sultan of Malaysia's welcome banquet," I hiss, staring at them. "You know what? Never mind. I forgive you. You can't help being so awful when that's what you've been raised with. You're products of your environment." It's a bad idea to rattle the wasp nest, but I don't care.
Noriko shakes her head. "That dress----"
Akiko puts a hand on her sister's arm, stopping her.
I sit back in the chair and cross my arms, wrinkling the kimono even more. "You two are so much like the tabloids that bully your mother, and you don't even know it."
There is a gasp. I can't tell from which one, Akiko or Noriko. But I can tell you how many effs I give right now. Zero.”
― Emiko Jean, Tokyo Dreaming

“You always want to blame the person who gets hurt instead of the one who does the hurting. I guess that means you think I knew you when you were hooking up with Harland Henson behind my back?"
I let this long-held secret come tumbling out, one of many wounds Bitsy delivered during childhood. "My first boyfriend stolen by my only sister. How much more Jerry Springer does it get? You'd have taken Fisher too, if he had let you. I know all about how you tried to kiss him while I was getting dressed for prom.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“Sounds like he has a hard time opening up, and him sharing this--- even if it wasn't a full truth--- was probably a massive deal for him. And for you to assume he owes an explanation is, well... it's a little selfish."
Nina curled her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled. Maybe Sophie had a point, but still, wasn't his omission a sign of him not trusting her?
"I can see that your wheels are spinning, so let me put it this way--- his mental health is personal and important. The same way that you don't owe him a full gynecological report just because you've let him in your vagina.”
― Erin La Rosa, For Butter or Worse

“Tell me, Pierce, why do you think she left?"
"Why do---" He turned on her, his face a strange battle of anger and grief. "I don't know."
"I think you do." She stood, her height no match for his, but she pretended that she did. "You hit her, Pierce."
He was shamed into silence.
"And more than that. My sister is intelligent, and compassionate, and talented. And you--- you squandered those things about her. You told her, in action if not words, that she was less than the Perrysburg Graftons until she learned to be like them. You fool--- she was more. She is the best person I have ever known, and I hope she stays far away from you."
Alaine caught her breath, her heart racing. Pierce only stared at her, anger boiling behind his eyes. "I only ever wanted to help her."
"Help her!" Alaine bit back laughter that was too close to hysterical. "Help her do what, Pierce? The only thing you wanted was for her to help you. To be a perfect Perrysburg Grafton, arranging your parties and making you look good. Well, she's worth more than that.”
― Rowenna Miller, The Fairy Bargains of Prospect Hill

“How funny is it that we are constantly told to follow our dreams but are punished to a torturous degree if our dreams don't come true like the way we want them to. It takes a lot to bloom again after it. But being able to bloom again is what matters. The crux lies in the answer to the question that 'Do we really bloom again?' Perhaps yes, but perhaps never in the same way.”
― Namrata Gupta, White Horses Dark Shadows: A Modern Day Intense Romance | A story about finding True Love

“Her smile was brittle. "Well, I know Kieran's achieving something if someone like you is willing to be in a relationship with him."
"Someone like me?"
She gestured to me from head to toe. "Respectable. Elegantly dressed, if a little flamboyant with color. Beautiful manners, well-spoken. Clearly you listened to your parents when they told you how to behave."
I choked back a snort at the thought of my biological father being Mr. Manners. The sheer audacity of it.
"Kieran probably hasn't told you about all the times we had to get him out of trouble," she continued.
I blinked, confused. "No."
She ticked off on her fingers as she spoke. "He skipped classes, he stole money out of my wallet, he crashed our cars more than once. Not to mention the drinking, my God. He couldn't hold his liquor at all. We were so ashamed."
I held back my eye roll. It was like having a conversation with a steamroller. As she continued to list Kieran's crimes, I realized that she relished this monologue, all the ways he'd done them wrong. Like she never wanted him to grow up because then she'd have to stop being a martyr.
"But anyway, that's all in the past. Finally, he's become who we always wanted him to be, and we can hold our heads up."
The thought of being a source of pride to these snobby, plastic people made me want to drink ten flutes of prosecco, climb onto their dining room table, and do Amy Winehouse karaoke, Diane's advice about polish and presentation be damned. But all I needed to shock them was the truth.
"I haven't seen my father in over twenty years," I began. "As far as I know he's still the lead singer of the second-best hair metal band in Spokane. My mother's salary was for keeping herself in clothes and boyfriends. Sometimes I had to break into my piggy bank so that I could by Cup O' Noodles at 7-Eleven for my brother and me. I've made a good life in spite of my parents, not because of them. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with your son. I knew he was a survivor, too. But thank you for the compliments. Now, if you'll excuse me.”
― Sarah Chamberlain, The Slowest Burn

“Adeena, are you going to tell us what that was all about?"
She turned and looked me in the eyes. "What do you think?"
I stopped short. I wasn't expecting her to throw it back at me like that. "Something about releasing tension?"
"And?"
"It was therapeutic?"
"Kind of the same thing, but sure. What else?"
I sighed, she wouldn't stop until I admitted my part in all this. "Because Elena and I were fighting yet again about you even though we'd promised we'd stop?"
"Bingo! Give the woman a prize. You have a choice between this plaque to your hero complex or this booklet of coupons you can redeem each time you keep a promise for once. Which will it be?"
"Adeena..."
"And don't think you're off the hook," she said, turning to her girlfriend. "You also get a booklet of coupons and a plaque to your mothering complex."
"Thank you?" Elena said.
"I don't mean 'mother' in the cool ballroom way! I mean you try to act like my mother in the way you're so overprotective. I am a grown woman. I need you to support me, not cover me in bubble wrap and fight all my battles.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Guilt and Ginataan

“The scroll slowed on a post from Madison. Predictably, she was sharing more pregnancy content. Today's post was a column graph about maternal mortality rates, accompanied by the caption:

This makes me so sad. Growing a human is hard enough. We shouldn't have to fear for our lives on top of that.

Mae frowned. The graph was cut off. It showed rates for All, White, and Hispanic, but there was a sliver of what looked like another bar on the far right. Under it, the only part of the word that didn't get cut off was Bl.
Ordinarily, Mae wouldn't have wasted any time on this. It was just Madison being Madison, thinking of herself and no one else. But after learning about her grandma Doris's racist past yesterday, it was hard to look past anything about the Parkers anymore.
A reverse-image search turned up the original article, titled Black women three times more likely to die in childbirth than white women. The full graph showed that the column for Black women towered over the other columns Madison had posted.
Anger and annoyance rising within her, Mae returned to Madison's post and started typing.

You'll be fine. If you'd read the article and shared the full graph, you'd know the point of the piece is that Black women are way more at risk. Or do you not care about that?”
― Shauna Robinson, The Townsend Family Recipe for Disaster

“Dad didn't hate weddings," Mae said.
Her mom's brow creased. "Yes, he did," she said with a chuckle. "He was always going on about how he could go the rest of his life without hearing the wedding march ever again."
"No, he didn't," Mae said more firmly. She set her fork down. "He hated going to your family's weddings. Because it meant being around a bunch of white people who were just subtle enough to keep their racism discreet."
That did it. Susan froze. John took a long drink from his wineglass. Connor's gaze steadied on Mae, a haze of uncertainty in his eyes. Madison jerked her head back. Sierra watched her, looking vaguely curious. Her mom stared, mouth open.
"It was inevitable," Mae continued. "Whenever we had to be around the Parkers. Someone would always say something borderline. Dad and I would exchange a look, like, Here we go. Every wedding, every Christmas, every Thanksgiving, every Easter, we would sit across from each other at a table full of white people and share our silent little looks."
Her face was burning. Every pair of eyes at the table was laser-focused on her. Even Jayla, sitting one table over with the wedding party, was staring. Mae's mom opened her mouth, which just reminded Mae she had more to say.
"I wish you'd told me about grandma being racist to Althea."
It was mortifying, spilling her guts in front of her in-laws, but it was freeing, too. Like she was invincible. Like even though she was about to wreck her entire life, at least no one could stop her. You couldn't stop a hurricane.
"You said you didn't want me to feel different around her, but, Mom, I already did. And I wish you'd told me I had a sister. Do you know how much less alone I would have felt, knowing Sierra was my sister? Being around family that looked like me? Instead of a grandpa who said the n-word in front of me when I was eight? Or my husband's mom asking me how dark my skin gets in the sun?" Susan paled. "Or a cousin who--- you know what, Madison," Mae said, catching her eye across the table, "it is racist to say you refuse to shop at Black-owned businesses, and I shouldn't have defended you when Sierra called you on it." Madison's cheeks reddened, and she looked like she was going to object, but Mae wasn't done. "Is it any wonder that I would drive to Hobson and sacrifice so much to stay there, burning through all my PTO, giving up my entire honeymoon, because I finally had a family that didn't make me feel out of place?”
― Shauna Robinson, The Townsend Family Recipe for Disaster

“I wasn't there as a reporter. I was there as a human being. You might want to try it sometime.”
― Sarah Strohmeyer, Sweet Love

“How about kicking back and trusting a guy for a change?"
"Last time I trusted a guy a pink plus sign showed up on the little white stick."
"Ah, right. Well, that wasn't my fault, was it?"
"No. That was Donald's. Too bad he got to me before you could.”
― Sarah Strohmeyer, Sweet Love