Don't be a fool. Don't give up something important to hold onto someone who can't even say they love you.
The word love has always tasted like the scent of fresh ink and soft paper to me. Like a newly written poem.
I don't think he likes girls", I said. "Or boys. Look at the horror on his face. He doesn't look like a people person.
When you have a watch, time is like a swimming pool. There are edges and sides. Without a watch, time is like the ocean. Sloppy and vast.
You see, this is the beauty I want. Beauty has got to be astonishing, astounding--it's got to burst in on you like a dream, like the exquisite eyes of a girl.
Children. For all of the times that you miss out on things you'd like to do because of them, there are an equal number of excuses they offer to get out of things you'd like to miss.
For those who like that sort of thing," said Miss Brodie in her best Edinburgh voice, "That is the sort of thing they like.
Spaniards and Americans are not like Europeans, they are not like Orientals, they have something in common, that is they do not need religion or mysticism not to believe in reality as all the world knows it, not even when they see it.
When I like people immensely I never tell their names to anyone. It is like surrendering a part of them. I have grown to love secrecy.
If the guy likes/loves you, he won't care if you are a good kisser or not. He should like you for what you are - not how you kiss.
She was tall and dark-skinned and looked like a Nigerian sculpture. She moved like a lioness, her every step bristling with suppressed violence.
You're paved in my heart like an old road. Like the pebbles in a pebble field, dirt in dirt, dust in dust, cobwebs in cobwebs.
Type A Ellie liked to know the rules, like knowing what to expect. Flying blind made her nervous. He prepared to make her all kinds of nervous.
For you will certainly carry out God's purpose, however you act, but it makes a difference to you whether you serve like Judas or like John.
Like poetry, in times of intense emotion the image returns to me. Like poetry, it stroked my soul and, by turns, lulled and stoked my senses.
Ethan was loyal and funny and protective. When we were little, he was the brother most likely to make me cry—and mostly likely to wipe away my tears.
What is grace? I'm not certain; all I know is that my heart felt like a spike, and then, in that room, it opened and felt like an umbrella.
You get a little moody sometimes but I think that's because you like to read. People that like to read are always a little fucked up.
I'm glad she left me the kids. I'd be lost without them. Lost and bitter. With them here, I'm only bitter.
I work hard in the orchard, not for the money anymore, but for something I can't explain. Something worth more than money.
She taught me what's important, and what isn't. And I've never forgotten. And that's what mothers do, I say.
