Mr. Freeman: You are getting better at this, but it's not good enough. This looks like a tree,but it is an average, ordinary, everyday, boring tree. Breathe life into it. Make it bend - trees are flexible, so they don't snap. Scar it, give it a twisted branch - perfect trees don't exist. Nothing is perfect. Flaws are interesting. Be the tree.
"Say it again," he says. "That whole drawn-out speech?" I remember something about a solar system, but I'm too light-headed to recite the entire thing all over again. He steps closer. "No. The part about you fallin' for me."
"I'm not going anywhere until you hear me out." Oh, please no. Anything except having to listen to her lecture. I push the button that calls the nurse. a voice bellows through the speaker. "I'm bein' tortured."
"I just read this great quote by Junot Diaz, he was talking about true intimacy, and he was saying that it was the willingness to be vulnerable and to be found out. That's what I felt that YA did. It wasn't pretentious, and it wasn't hiding its heart. It wanted to be found out...
"Carlos, are we in complete understanding with each other?" "Yeah," I say. "As long as it's not in your house and you don't know about it, you're okay with us messin' around." "I know you're joking with me. You are joking with me, aren't you?" "Maybe."
I like that girl more than I can remember likin' anything in my life. I'm not about to give her up. I'll start carin' about what other people think when I'm six feet under.
"Luis is right there." I point to the corner of the yard, where my little brother is the centre of attention doing imitations of barnyard animals. I have yet to inform him that talent isn't as much of a chick magnet when you get into junior high."
"Listen, I don't know what the hell happened between you and Marco. To be honest I don't really want to know, 'cause if I did I'd probably want to kick the shit outta him." "I don't need you to protect me." "What if I want to?" --
Three things Marco taught me today race through my mind: boys will lie to your face just to have sex with you, don't trust any boy who says I love you, and never date a boy who lives on the south side of Fairfield.
Listen, I didn't ask for a face and body girls find attractive. But thanks to the mixture of my parents' DNA, I've got them, and I'm not ashamed to use 'em.
"Just try it," he murmurs, reaching over to cover my hand gently. And I think, Whoa, that's never happened before! Then: Is he just doing that because he thinks Wyatt is interested? And, finally, this: Who the hell cares?!"
I'd love to be a tabletop in Paris, where food is art and life combined in one, where people gather and talk for hours. I want lovers to meet over me. I'd want to be covered in drops of candle wax and breadcrumbs and rings from the bottom of wineglasses. I would never be lonely, and I would always serve a good purpose.
"Quinn spoke their language--all mystery and inside jokes, scarred souls and statement shirts. It was a beautiful moment for him--in his element and completely happy. When they started playing, he leaned over and whispered in my ear. "See that guitar?" I nodded. "That's a 1969 Martin D28. Hear me when I say if I had to choose between a beautiful girl and that guitar, I'd choose the guitar. Natch." He took a huge gulp of water, clearly affected. "Naturally," I whispered. "It could be why you're still single."
The Professor doesn't have a problem being called Dick? If my name was Richard, I'd go by Richard or Rich . . . not Dick. Hell, I'd even settle for being called Chard.
Why don't you check out those teenagers in the middle row? They've been going at it like dogs in heat ever since the previews. They're probably both werewolves. And even if they aren't, you should throw them out on principle alone.
With every fall of the sun and rise of the moon, I can hear it. The Prophecy. It echoes through the halls of time. It is written on the surface of every star. Even the sun and moon cannot withhold the news of the second coming. I hear it. And I fear it.