Sarah Dessen Quotes
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Okay, so if that's not real, what is? What counts, to you?" He thought for a second, then said, "I don't know. Just because someone's pretty doesn't mean she's decent. Or vice versa. I'm not into appearances. I like flaws, I think they make things interesting." I wasn't sure what answer I'd expected. But this wasn't it. For a second, I just sat there, letting it sink in. "You know," I said finally, "saying stuff like that would make girls even crazier for you. Now you're cuteand somewhat more attainable. If you were appealing before, now you're off the charts.
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I wasn't ready for this, but then I probably never would be, and this year, like so much else, wouldn't wait. I had no choice but to get out of my car, with everyone watching and begin in earnest, alone. So I did
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Morgan sighed. "I," she announced, "am so pathetic." "You are not," I said. "I am." She went over and straightened the cling wrap, corner to corner. "Do you know how many times I've brought in devilled eggs? This is, like, the only time I haven't been sobbing and that's only 'cause I cried all night. And Norman," she said, her voice rising to a wail, "sweet Norman, always just acts so surprised to see the eggs, and pleased, and he never, once, has ever acted like he knew what they meant."
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Now, see," Wes said, nodding at my plate, "this is going to blow your mind." I looked at him. "It's a waffle, not the second coming.
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How do you even begin to return to someone, much less convince them to do the same for you? I had no idea. More than ever, though, right then I had to believe the answer would just come to me.
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Then I'd crawl back into bed, smelling her all around me, and tell myself that next time, I would lock that window. But I never did.
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During this time we've been apart, it's you I've thought of when I'm at my weakest, and you who have pulled me through.
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Like life isn't complicated enough. You should at least be able to follow the signs.
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Life is full of screwups. You're supposed to fail sometimes. It's a required part of the human existance.
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...You can't unlearn something, even if you want to. You know what you know.
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My experience is that sequels are rarely as good as the originals.
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It's just that...I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It's the universe's way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It's how life is.
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I was so thrilled that I was having a girl, because I just am so girly myself, but I think the teenage years are going to be very interesting.
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I didn't want to talk about what happened, so it seemed safest not to talk at all.
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As Isabel acted out her date, both of them laughing, I stayed in the kitchen, out of sight, and pretended she was telling me, too. And that, for once, I was part of this hidden language of laughter and silliness and girls that was, somehow, friendship.
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Don't give me no rotten tomato, 'cause all I ever wanted was your sweet potato.
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It's a lot easier to be lost than found. It's the reason we're always searching and rarely discovered--so many locks not enough keys.
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Whether it was a song, a person, or a story, there was a lot you couldn’t know from just an excerpt, a glance, or part of a chorus.
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But anyone can begin. It was the part with all the promise, the potential, the things I loved. More and more, though, I was finding myself wanting to find out what happened in the end.
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But unfriendly is usually one of those things you pick up on right away. You know, like B.O. There's no hiding it if it's there.
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I hadn't said goodbye. It had been easier, like always, to just disappear, sparing myself the messy details of another farewell. Now, my fingers hovered over my track pad, moving the cursor down to his comment section before I stopped myself. What was the point? Anything I said now would only be an afterthought. Elizabeth who goes by her middle name
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I understood now. This voice, the one that had been trying to get my attention all this time, calling out to me, begging me to hear it - it wasn't Will's. It was mine.
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A second later, when he looked up at me, we were face to face, and again, even under these circumstances, I was struck by how good looking he was, in that accidental, doesn't-even-know-it kind of way. Which only made it worse. Or better. Or whatever. "Yup", he said, as if there'd been any doubt, "you're in there, all right." "I was warned, too,"I told him, as he stood up. "I just saw that sculpture, and I got distracted." "The sculpture?" He looked at it, then at me. "Oh, right. Because you know it.
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closed my eyes and listened. It was like music I'd heard all my life, even more than "This Lullaby." All those keystrokes, all those letters, so many words. I brushed my fingers over the beads and watched as her image rippled, like it was on water, breaking apart gently and shimmering before becoming whole again.