Beth Revis Quotes
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If it's a matter of dying here or dying there, I think I'd like to at least see the world first.
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I've never seen the stars before. And I never knew they were so beautiful.
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She stops speaking, but I can hear her silent sobs. They’re the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.
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Like walking through water. Like drowning.
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Dreams are like that: they go in and out of memories and scenes, but they're never real. They're never real, and I hate them because they aren't.
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Emotion courses through my veins, choking me. I feel so insignificant, a tiny speck surrounded by a million stars. A million suns.
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Our masterpieces are Shakespeare and Jane Austen and griots and Murasaki Shikibu, but they’re also J.K. Rowling and Chuck Palahnuik and Douglas Adams and Amy Tan and Suzanne Collins and Chinua Achebe. Read. Read them all. Read the books you love, and try to read books you don’t. Read the genres you love, but sometimes also read a book outside your comfort zone. Read voraciously.
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We fall into each other. All the other voices in my head--the fear, the doubt, the worry--are drowned out. I die at the end of each kiss and am brought gasping back to life at the beginning of the next. I close my eyes and the entire world fades away.
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When I finally get out of bed, the only thing I want to do is go straight to Amy and demand her forgiveness. Maybe we can at least go back to what we had before our fight, even if all we had was an awkward friendship punctuated by significant silences.
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I remember the first time I saw the stars. I thought they changed everything. I thought they changed me, like I'd become a different person just by seeing shining specks of light a million miles away. Now when I stare at them, I feel nothing. I don't believe in them anymore.
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She is trying to control me with fear, because she cannot control me any other way. My eyes open wide. They burn as if they are on fire—no, as if they are made of fire. Eyes are the window to the soul.
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Maybe one day the smears of paint Harley left throughout Godspeed will fade, and maybe the stars never will, but i'd rather have Harley's colors.
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I'd rather have answers than weapons.
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I can think of nothing but the stars. It is like a piece of my soul had been lost, empty, and it is now filled with the light of a million stars. They are all that I have ever dreamed of; they are nothing that I ever expected... I will never, never be the same. I have seen stars. Real stars.
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But i don't care. Because we can say them or not; it doesn't matter. What is in our heats is real whether we name it or let it exist only in darkness and silence.
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I open my mouth. I want o say: I'm breaking, and i need someone to hold me together. But no sound comes out.
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We're the ones who arent normal. People are supposed to be like that: obedient, calm, working together. It's us-who can't focus, who can't work together, who can't do the Feeder or Shipper jobs-we're the ones who aren't normal. We're the ones who have to take the mental meds just so we don't go loons.
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...that was before I'd started thinking about how life stuck on a ship wouldn't be so bad if Elder walked around pantless more.
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But...If my life on Earth must end, let it end with a promise. Let it end with hope.
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And there is nothing between us but rain. Then there is nothing between us at all.
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It's always in the rain...
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There is only him and me and this thing between us that I cannot name, not out loud, but that my heart knows is love.
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I feel hollow inside, as if there’s a black hole where my heart was, as if I am caving in around myself.
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Maybe being alone in the sea, with its unexplored depths, its clawing-finger waves, really is safer compared to the land, where there are people and malice and death.