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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #roman
Cry no tears for us, my friend.” I pry at her fingers, panicking to be released in fear that she may drag me into death with her. She croaks again, “Lend no aches to the dreams of yesterday.” From the corpse of Warren, his greyish gums smack from whatever goo has settled in his mouth, “Allow the tide sweep free the bay.” Then together they sing in zombie choir, “And home the ships sailing send. ↗
I knew from Brianna that being beautiful wasn’t all great. Brianna had changed in middle school. One day we were both seventh graders and the next, she was a supermodel who had a seventh grader for a best friend. ↗
Nobody is perfect, and thats part of the beauty of being human. Hopefully, as we travel along on lifes journey, we become increasingly brave about exploring who we really are and can enjoy sustained, robust, excellent mental health. ↗
Hey,” Shayne said through the door. “You going to stay in there all night, because we’re getting tired of trying to eavesdrop from out here. Can’t hear a damn thing. ↗
In the deepest, darkest depths of her heart where she kept all her dreams locked up in a pink journal decorated with ponies and unicorns, she’d fantasized about declaring her love for Sasha Karimi for two years. In those scenarios, he generally fell to his knees in thrilled delight before he reciprocated the feelings and then they got married and had lots of babies and maybe a pet iguana and lived happily ever after. ↗
You’re going to castrate them if they give me a sideways glance?” He looked at the ground. “I’m not bringing you to the safest place and you’re beautiful, so I needed to warn them.” “I’m beautiful?” I repeated trying not to smile. “Don’t let it go to your head, darling.” He said holding his hand out for me. “You’re not too bad yourself.” “I know. I saw the way you stared at me when I took my shirt off.” Hunter said. ↗
#in-between-seasons #post-apocalyptic #ya-dystopian #ya-romance #beauty
In fiction, I searched for my favorite authors, women I have trusted to reassure me than not all teenage guys are total ditwads, that the archetype of the noble cute hero who devotes himself to the girl he loves has not gone the way of the rotary phone. That all I had to do was be myself (smart, hardworking, funny) and be patient and kind and he and I would find each other. As Bea would say, this why they call it fiction. ↗
The truth is I’m a chicken shit coward who’s afraid of a girl like you. When I’m with you, I want things I never thought I’d be able to have, or deserved, and that scares me a little. I’m just a regular guy who works in a bar and you’re this beautiful person who shines brighter than the stars. I think I just made up some cheesy poetry so I’ll stop while I’m ahead. If you feel like talking, give me a call. ~D Sophie sat down on the floor and, through blurry eyes, reread the note so many times she had it memorized. She was going to do more than give him a call. ↗
