I meant it when I said I didn’t believe in love at first sight. It takes time to really, truly fall for someone. Yet I believe in a moment. A moment when you glimpse the truth within someone, and they glimpse the truth within you. In that moment, you don’t belong to yourself any longer, not completely. Part of you belongs to him; part of him belongs to you. After that, you can’t take it back, no matter how much you want to, no matter how hard you try.
Everyone is lonely, we have to remember that life is to be lived one day at a time. You cannot worry about the past or future. Happiness is in the now.
Huging my pillow to my chest, I told myself, At least soon you won't have so much time to miss him. Soon school will start again, and then you'll be busier. Wait. Am I reduced to HOPING for school to start? Somehow, I have discovered a whole new level of pathetic.
Every form of art is another way of seeing the world. Another perspective, another window. And science –that’s the most spectacular window of all. You can see the entire universe from there.
If you loved someone, you couldn’t let lies come between you. No matter what happened—even if you’d already lost each other forever—you owed each other the truth.
People get stupid when they're in love; people want what they can't have; and the years between ages twelve and eighteen always, always suck.
But do you want this? It's not much of a life. Don't you see? It's the first life I've had in four hundred years. With you--in the only way that matters--I'm alive again.
I see... the way you're always searching. How much you hate anything fake or phony. How you're older than your years, but still... playful, like a little girl. How you're always looking into people, or wondering what they see when they look back at you. Your eyes. It's all in the eyes.
I apologized to her once for spending less time with her, but she blew it off. You're in love. That makes you actually kind of boring to people who aren't in love. You know, the sane ones.
Vic knelt by Lucas's side. 'You look like crap, by the way.''Thanks for breaking it to me gently.' Lucas took a deep breath, then groaned.
The library would've cheered me up, most days. I loved the heavy oaken tables, the high walls stacked with books to the ceiling, the musty smell of old pages and the heavy brass fixtures that had gone dark with age and wear.
Thane had never been one of the idealists, he'd accepted Wedge Antilles's invitation not because he believed the Rebellion was pure good but because he'd learned the Empire was pure evil.
It saddens me to see girls proudly declaring they’re not like other girls – especially when it’s 41,000 girls saying it in a chorus, never recognizing the contradiction. It’s taking a form of contempt for women – even a hatred for women – and internalizing it by saying, Yes, those girls are awful, but I’m special, I’m not like that, instead of stepping back and saying, This is a lie.The real meaning of “I’m not like the other girls” is, I think, “I’m not the media’s image of what girls should be.” Well, very, very few of us are. Pop culture wants to tell us that we’re all shallow, backstabbing, appearance-obsessed shopaholics without a thought in our heads beyond cute boys and cuter handbags. It’s a lie – a flat-out lie – and we need to recognize it and say so instead of accepting that judgment as true for other girls, but not for you.
We are this world. Its next generation. If you’re not trying to save us, then what exactly are you trying to save?
You’re going to tell me that last night shouldn’t have happened.”No. I’m glad it happened. For too long, I’ve been telling myself that I could spend all this time with yo and flirt with you and not have it mean anything. It does mean something. You mean something to me. But I’m not in love with you.
Ester would tell her to dance faster, leap higher, to laugh out loud with all the breath in lungs. That’s what the dead would tell the living, if they could—to grab hold of joy whenever it comes.
Now I know that grief is a whetstone that sharpens all your love, all your happiest memories, into blades that tear you apart from within.
But grief changes. It softens, adapts its shape to become a part of you. That kind of sorrow never gets any lighter, but you grow accustomed to the weight as you carry it on.
My hate is stronger than the dimensions, stronger than memory, stronger than time. My hate is now the truest part of who I am.
Don't you think you ought to at least think about getting yourself to your ultimate? Because, trust me, nobody else is going to get you there.
You should go. I can't. Because you want to stare at the monster? Alec's green eyes blaze, but with a wholly human fire now. Or because you pity me? I couldn't guess which possibility he loathes more. I fold my arms. I can't leave because the door's locked. Believe me, I would've gone hours ago if I could have. Oh. Of course. Then he looks so abashed--so boyish, and so handsome--that I almost want to laugh.