He ever offer to walk you home?" "I've never asked," Cath said quickly. "I've never asked you either." "That's true," Levi said. More quiet. More cold. The air stung Cath's throat when she finally spoke again. "So maybe you shouldn't." "Don't be ridi...
How many people make a career out of writing anyway?' Cath snapped. She felt like everything inside her was snapping. Her nerves. Her temper. Her esophagus. 'I'll write because I love it, the way other people knit or . . . or scrapbook. And I'll find...
But I don't want to write my own fiction,' Cath said, as emphatically as she could. 'I don't want to write my own characters or my own worlds -- I don't care about them. . . . I'd rather pour myself into a world I love and understand than try to make...
The professor leaned forward. “But there’s nothing more profound than creating something out of nothing.” Her lovely face turned fierce. “Think about it Cath. That’s what makes a god—or a mother. There’s nothing more intoxicating than c...
Will you read this? I think maybe it sucks. Or maybe it's awesome. It's probably awesome. Tell me it's awesome, okay? Unless it sucks." — Nick
He looked up at her and smiled crookedly, holding out a few sheets of paper. "Will you read this? i think maybe it sucks. or maybe it's awesome. it's probably awesome. Tell me it's awesome,okay? Unless it sucks.
When she opened her door, Levi was sitting in the hallway, his legs bent in front of him, hunched forward on his knees. He looked up when she stepped out. “I’m such an idiot,” he said. Cath fell between his knees and hugged him. “I can’t be...
That's different," Levi smiled at her warmly. "Ypu don't rock that Little Red Riding Hood vibe. You're scary." Reagan grinned like the Big Bad Wolf.
Cath shook her head. "Now is all you get," she spat out, wishing she could make more sense. Wishing for more words, or better ones. "Now is all you ever get.
Seriously, why aren't you on drugs?" Cath walked past her out of the room. "Are you a licensed psychiatrist? Or do you just play one on TV?" "I'm on drugs," Reagan said. "They're a beautiful thing.
I don't want to do anything. I don't even want to start this day because then I'll just be expected to finish it.
His eyes were that colour you can't see in the rainbow. Indigo.
She smiled, and her eyes started to drift downward. "Cather..." Back up to his eyes. "You know that I'm falling in love with you, right?
I don’t trust anybody. Not anybody. And the more that I care about someone, the more sure I am they’re going to get tired of me and take off.
She was tired of being the one who cried.
I'm sorry Penelope." "Don't waste my time with sorries,Simon.If we stop to apologize and forgive each other every time we step on each other's toes,we'll never have time to be friends.
You don’t have any friends, your sister dumped you, you’re a freak eater..and you’ve got some weird thing about Simon Snow." "I object to every single thing you just said." Reagan chewed. And frowned. She was wearing dark red lipstick. "I have ...
Cath wasn't trying to make new friends here. In some cases, she was actively trying not to make friends, though she usually stopped short of being rude.
