Ya Quotes

Wow,” said Adrian. He sat down on the bed and tested its bounciness, giving it a nod of approval. “This is amazing. What do you think, buttercup?”“I have no words,” I said honestly.He patted the spot beside him. “Want to try it out?

The frame of the mirror was a deep mahogany and carved with an intricate design of what appeared in the dim light to be leaves and vines. The mirror’s surface was clouded with dust and age, so much that Quinn could not even see his own reflection. On impulse, he rubbed a small circle with the back of his wrist but beneath the dust the glass was still milky and unclear. ~ "The Mirror

If we weigh the significance of a book by the effect it has on its readers, then the great children's books suddenly turn up very high on the list.

The waiter repeated, "The cocktails are from Mr Seadon. He asked me to tell you that he thought you'd enjoy them. They are called Secrets.

Maybe I should put an ad online. Honor student seeks overly self-confident young man for fake relationship. Terms negotiable.

Raffin appeared again, a floor above her, on the balconied passageway that ran past his workrooms. He leaned over the railing and called down to her. "Kat!""What is it?""You look lost . Have you forgotten the way to your rooms?""I'm stalling.""How long will you be? I'd like to show you a couple of my new discoveries.""I've been told to make myself pretty for dinner."He grinned. "Well in that case, you'll be ages."His face dissolved into laughter, and she tore a button from one of her bags an hurled it at him. He squealed and dropped to the floor, and the button hit the wall right where he'd been standing. When he peeked back over the railing, she stood in the courtyard with her hands on her hips, grinning. "I missed on purpose," she said."Show off! Come if you have time." He waved, and turned into his rooms.

Shhhhh, I am trying to read.

Crushes are very strange things; they’re a warning sign in the word itself—crush: to deform, pulverize, or force inward by compressing forcefully. Whoever decided it was a good idea to equate deformity and compression to blooming affection was either very high or a genius—or maybe lost somewhere in between. But for good or bad, I could feel it: my heart pressing inward until the sound of it beating filled my ears again. I had a deformed, pulverized, compressed force on Chris, and there was nothing I could do about it.

You eat canned tuna fish and you absorb protein. Then, if you're lucky, someone give you Dover Sole and you experience nourishment. It's the same with books.

Hearing my brother’s words coming out of Henry, this stranger in a strange town, made me feel wild with all the loss—wild and wired with no place to put those feelings.

It’s funny how life moves in a complete circle sometimes. There might be lots of bumps in the road and maybe even a few cliffs, but it’s a journey, and sometimes it can bring you to the most wonderful places.

Dust motes swirled in the air like tiny orbs of rainbows.

You can never trust a Vampire, child.

Well, sometimes I worry that my whole life will be based about what's comfortable and easy. I'll care too much about what makes me feel good to ever really reach for anything. And then I worry that even if I do, I won't succeed.

What kind of life is that? Do you know? Do you? Because I know. I lived that life. For years I lived it. Without you. And I've never been more miserable. I'd rather fight everyday to keep you near me than have you walk away. I'd rather pay that price, Max. I'm not afraid to pay it. I can't believe you're standing here telling me that you are." ~Layla to Max; TORN

We've all changed; shaped by circumstances we've been thrust into, molded by the choices we've made.

I trail my fingers across his cheek. He stays perfectly still for me. "Please stop apologizing, Etienne.""Say my name again," he whispers.I close my eyes and lean forward. "Etienne."He takes my hands into his. Those perfect hands, that fit mine just so. "Anna?"Our foreheads touch. "Yes?""Will you please tell me you love me? I'm dying here."And then we're laughing. And then I'm in his arms, and we're kissing, at first quickly - to make up for lost time - and then slowly, because we have all the time in the world. And his lips are soft and honey sweet, and the careful, passionate way he moves them against my own says that he savors the way I taste, too.And in between kisses, I tell him I love him.Again and again and again.

This is what I want to do with Violet - give her only the good, keep away the bad, so that good is all we ever have around us

Now Sunny, don’t get mad, but …” Rayne begins, her voice trembling.tI shoot her an angry glare. “But WHAT, Rayne?”t“I, uh, think you’ve accidentally been turned into a vampire.

He smiled. "we go inside.""I'm going to get tetanus in there." I grumbled."Don't go rolling in piles of dirt and rusty nails and you'll be fine.""You're an ass.

They say love is blind...but it isn't. Love is perfect sight. Love is the ability to see a person, I mean really see him-his strengths, his weaknesses, his flaws, all his past triumphs and mistakes-and view that person not as the world says you're supposed to see him, but as you see him-as that special someone you know you will always embrace, body and soul, no matter what anyone else says or thinks I know I can't tell anyone what I've been through. I know they wouldn't understand. They don't see him the way that I see him. All they know is the legend, the darkness. They don't know the inner beauty, the warmth and the joy more intense than anything I ever thought was possible to experience. They don't know the truth behind the name. My angel. My only. Lucifer.

Burlic screamed. He threw back his head and roared a single furious word into the night: “Waeccan.” The name erupted from him in a savage wail that rasped at his throat, over and over until he could shout no more.His howls echoed along the valley. In the village, the other hunters heard and exchanged glances, shook their heads and said nothing. The women clutched their talismans, told the children to go inside. They had tried to help, but there was nothing they could do for Burlic now.

He was especially excited about Aguirre, the Wrath of God. "Look at this crazy dude," he yelled, point at Klaus Kinski, who on the cover is wearing a Viking helmet and looks like a psychopath. So--with Dad's permission--we put the film in and watched it. This would turn out to be the single most important thing ever to happen in our lives.

Remember Whose You Are.

It washed all over me and through me, into the floor and then it was gone. I never cried for my Da again after that, and God's presence has been with me ever since.” - Adien MacRae, BETWEEN

It was enough to drive me mad. I was no longer myself and yet I was so much more me than I had ever been before. ~Katherine Demure

People who make time for the sadness in your life, not just the joy, are worth keeping around.

Absolutely. No more pretending!

It's hard. Being 15, 16, 17. You get so angry. You want to do something with that anger. I guess try to find some other way to let it out. Don't kill people. Don't kill yourself. Let yourself grow up a little. Then you might start to think differently about things. You might get new opportunities to do something with your life that you never thought possible as a teenager." -- Thomas Harvey from the upcoming novel, "Nikki White: Polar Extremes" (Nikki, #3)

The blank sheet stares up at me, its emptiness like a slap. Those were the last words Ginny ever wrote before she and her family were murdered.

Life isn't fair," comes the voice of Nana. She has told me that a thousand times. "What matters is how you handle it." I'm going to handle it by winning.

What, do I look like an alien? I don’t think aliens wear sexy dresses that make their boyfriends want to hide them from other men.”Wendy in Dancing with Death

The thought of abandoning his friend to save himself was never an option. He collapsed, pushing even closer to Raimie. Pressing his lips against his friend’s ear, he whispered, “As good a day to die as any.” He would defend them until his end.

Oh, man,' Beck breathed. 'Check out the car.' It was white with a black top. The hood looked as as long as a football field. 'Sure is big,' was all I could manage to say. Beck gazed longingly at the beast, his eyes glowing in appreciation. 'You know what that is?''Uh, no. Should I?''It's a fully restored, two-door 1973 Monte Carlo. Muscle car, big time.''Bet it's hard to park.

One final time I told myself I wasn't abducting my little brother.

Children’s and YA books are about being brave and kind, about learning wisdom and love, about that journey into and through maturity that we all keep starting, and starting again, no matter how old we get. I think that’s why so many adults read YA: we’re never done coming of age.

You’re all alone. No one wants you anymore. How long did you think we would all stay? You’ve killed each and every person who ever loved you. Even your children won’t want you. They will see what you have done. You must be the first ward in history to treat your guardian so badly that he left you. Do you think your mistress will stay? No. Elizabeth will take what she wanted and then she will leave you too.

She kissed me on the cheek, and my mom sang Theresa’s name from the open front door. She loves Theresa. I think she loves me more when I’m with her.

please,Tana,please.' -lots of characters in The Coldest Girl in Coldtown

Congratulations, everyone," I announce as I open the door to Noam's study. "You've finally broken Meira, the crazy, orphaned soldier-girl. She's snapped, all thanks to the mention of floral arrangements.

Her grin changed her quiet presence into something altogether different, something that made it hard to look away. There were lots of pretty girls in my hometown, including my on-again, off-again girlfriend, but no one who looked like this odd girl with her sprinkle of freckles and ragged haircut. Had someone attacked her head with a pair of scissors?

He let out a hiss of pain,then smiled that crooked, sheepish smile he always fell back on when he was caught doing something bad. "Sorry. I-I didn't mean to. I just- I've been lying here for hours, thinking about blood.

I said you were beautiful. I slept in your bed!

I like you so much I don't know what to do with it. My heart beats so fast when I know I'm going to see you again.

...because of the foulness of her mother's emotional river, a current which ran swift, changing its path without warning...

Have you made any other friends since we've been here?"I gave him the death stare. "Yes, actually.""Who? I want a name.""Jamie Roth.""The Ebola kid? I heard he's a little unstable.""That was one incident.

Reaching out, I grab his hand and intertwine my fingers with his. And I move into his space until we're not even an inch from each other. Laying my forehead on his chest, I take a deep breath and feel his whole body relax, as if tension is rolling off his body in waves.I was always the kid who loved the smell of gasoline.His free hand comes up, and his fingers slip through my hair before his hand settles between my shoulder blades."Ben," I say into his shirt."Janelle," he whispers back, and I can feel his mouth against my hair. I can feel him smile.

So what if I don't learn algebra?''Someday schools will be open again,' Mom said. 'Things will be normal. You need to do your work now for when that happens.''That's never going to happen,' Jon said. 'And even if schools do open up somewhere, they're not going to open up here. There aren't enough people left.' 'We don't know how many people are like us, holed up, making do until times get better.''I bet whoever they are, they aren't studying algebra,' Jon said.

Do you think we can be friends?” I asked.He stared up at the ceiling. “Probably not, but we can pretend.

Trauma. It doesn't eke itself out over time. It doesn't split itself manageably into bite-sized chunks and distribute itself equally throughout your life.Trauma is all or nothing. A tsunami wave of destruction.A tornado of unimaginable awfulness that whooshes into your life - just for one key moment - and wreaks such havoc that, in just an instant, your whole world will never be the same again.

Love is rare and hard to find and takes years upon years to develop. Teenagers don't fall in love.

I just don't want to cozy up to the guy whose girl I have every intention of stealing.

Dastien ran his fingertips along my jawline "Je suis desole, mon amour.

Her voice.That's what drew me to her. It was gorgeous, perfect, angelic.Ironic, that a demon should be drawn to the voice of an angel.

Look at this one.” I picked up a small painting of a man with dark hair and a short, dark beard. He wore a loose shirt, cobalt blue, unbuttoned at the top, showing a prominent, knobby collarbone. He looked…complicated and hungry. She’d captured him focused intensely on a book, his face pressed against a wall like he was resting. Or waiting.

The questions push me further into the space in between, the place where my madness lays waiting for me. I struggle with each question, determined to extract some sort of answer, an explanation for everything that has happened so far. But no answers come and I’m forced to acknowledge the feeling lodged between my two worldsTerror.

The road ahead holds many tests challenging everything she ever believed. I whispered a prayer for her inner strength to guide her on her path. She was going to need it.

You know how there’s that one person who stumbles into your life and you instantly have a connection with them? Someone who’s a genuinely good person. Someone you just know you can build a great bond with, and it doesn’t have to be in a romantic way either. It can be with someone you have no attraction to whatsoever, you just instantly recognize something in them and they in you. Like in another realm, in another life, you were meant to be together in some way. Whether with a mother, daughter, sibling, best friend, or romantic partner, it’s a strong, unexplainable connection between two individuals

I was in love with him. I knew that much was true. Love was the swelling, hopeful feeling in my chest every time I saw him. Love was the way I could forget about everything when I was with him. Love was the catch in my breath when he looked at me in his intense way. Love was the gasp he could draw out of me with the simplest of touches. Love was the way I could... I could be myself around him, know that I didn't need to be perfect or worry about what he was thinking, because he accepted me.

You can't make a fan of everyone. Stay true to your story, characters, music, art or whatever it is you do and fuck everyone else who doesn't like it. Life isn't perfect.