Young Adult Quotes - Page 7

Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.

Paranoia. The more you think of an imaginary problem, the more you feel as though it’s real –

She comes closer to me. She is beautiful, in the way lightning striking across a storm-swept sky is beautiful: dangerous and distant.

I'm not going to do it again," Lena Marquez whispered to the red purse across the hall from her nestle of blankets. "Never again.

I love you, Sofia,” I whispered. “And I honestly believe that I could never love another woman for the rest of my life. For the first time in the past five hundred years, I am sincerely thankful for my immortality, because without it, I never would’ve found you.

Tragic tales rarely do make sense.

Writing is the Art, re-writing the craft.

The Worst thing that Good could do to Evil was ignore it...

The hours tick by as I lie in bed.Memories keep surfacing, tormenting me into unbelievable sadness. I can't bring myself to move. I can't fight the memories that keep filling my thoughts. I stay curled in the fetal position as each memory plays out. I can't stop them from coming. I can't make them go away. Nothing can distract me. I can't block the memories, so they continue to come.

ARE YOU CRAZY?" I ASKED. He gave me the same wordless look he always did when I asked that question.

Anya looked upon Nin admirably. Having him as a partner-in-crime—if only on this one occasion, which she hoped would only be the start of something more—was more revitalizing than the cheap thrills of a cookie-cutter shallow, superficial romance, where the top priority was how beautiful a person was on the outside.

What's the point of being old if you can't beleaguer the young with your vast stores of wisdom?And what's the point of being young if you can't ignore all advice?

I always am in a role, lovely – for you, for them – even for myself. Yeah... Even when I’m alone, I am still in a role – and I myself am the most exacting audience I have ever had.

Before I could respond, I looked out the window again and as if in response to my thoughts, I saw Cooper walking up my driveway. My jaw dropped. I peeked around the kitchen doorframe. Mom was still lost to the television. I turned and looked out the window to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. No, it was really him. And he had a horse walking beside him. How clichéd could it get?

I’m not that pitiful little girl you bullied last year.

I’m trying to decide whether to tell you two to get a room or go barf in the trash can,” Emma said. “I’m leaning toward the second choice. You are both getting way too weird. And gross.”Cal barked out a laugh and slid his fingers down my arm to entwine with mine. His touch, and Emma’s comments, only made me blush more. Looks like Emma saw Cal lick my face after all. Now that wasn’t awkward or anything.

Look, girls know when they’re cute,” he said. “You don’t have to tell them. All they need to do is look in the mirror. I have one friend out in New York, an attorney. She moved out there after the school year to take the bar. She doesn’t have a job. I was like, ‘How are you going to get a job there in this market?’ And she’s like, ‘I’ll wink and I’ll smile.’ She’s a pretty girl. Whether that works despite her poor grades is yet to be seen.

My ghost is the only soul who ever comes to cry on my grave... Only the skies cried sincerely on my funeral.

I'd love to wrap myself inside your sadness and pretend it is mine

Milcas raced out his door, anxious to find the answer to this riddle and discover the source of hope for a Roegan in Fargranther; the propellant of an unheard of, forgotten, impossible, and by all accounts, damned idea.

As we drifted away from the Tower Bridge, I saw a single silhouette standing against the bright lamplight. Even now when I was nearly asleep, I could recognise her. Her shoulders were hunched up as if she was upset. Whether she was upset that she had nearly killed me or that she had let me get away, I was unsure. Then she turned around and walked to join the other silhouettes standing in a group farther back. Now I could not see which one was Rose – they were all joint together to make one.

The gray paint peels off the wall in odd and beautiful patterns, each cracked polygon of paint a snowflake of decay.

Their eyes find mine and they freeze. Emotions flicker across their faces quicker than I can identify, until finally they settle on one I recognize. One I see every time Miya looks at me. Love. - Dylan

Remy shot to her feet, eyes blazing. Her hands were fisted at her sides. “Don’t be stupid, Creed.”“What did you say?” I asked slowly.“Don’t. Be. Stupid.”I opened my mouth, closed it. “Why do you even care?” I finally asked.Remy’s eyes shifted away from mine. She was hiding something. “You’re giving up.”“No.” I shook my head. “Giving up would be giving in to the darkness completely. I haven’t quite taken that step yet.”“What’s stopping you?”“What?”“If you don’t care and you want it to be over, what’s stopping you from letting the evil inside of you destroy you?”You.“You need to leave,” I told her.“I can’t.”A low rumble sounded deep in my chest.“Are you growling at me?”“Are you scared?”“No.”“You should be,” I stated, moving for her.

You'll get fired if anyone finds out about us!""So many rules in this century," Vane muttered.

there are some some times in life where you have to let your feelings go and do what must be done

He smirks, shaking his head and letting his eyes wander. I watch him carefully, wondering what I can say to get him to leave. “I’m not leaving until you answer some questions. Plus, I’m holding your sketchbook hostage, so you might want to cooperate.” I raise an eyebrow at him. I guess there isn’t much I can say. “This isn’t a hostage negotiation.” He chuckles half-heartedly as his eyes take me in, almost sizing me up. “I guess I should introduce myself.” He holds a hand out for me to shake. “I’m Nathan.” I stare at his hand for a moment. “Taylor,” I reply, meeting his eyes again without taking his hand. He lets his hand fall back to his side. “At least I got you to say something non-hostile.” “I haven’t been hostile,” I object. His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, haven’t you?” “Why don’t you leave me alone?” I snap. “Leave and don’t come back.” I move passed him, heading for my apartment. He can’t follow and annoy me if I lock the door. “Where are you going?” he demands. I look back over my shoulder and roll my eyes at him, indicating the answer should be obvious: anywhere he isn’t. Once inside, I slam the door behind me. “That was totally not hostile!” he calls after me, sarcastically. I quickly head for my bedroom door, slamming it, too.

It struck Yuki as almost comic that humans drew lines on the globe, and on both sides of those lines raised up armies. Then they fought and died to take possession of...what? Hills. Yuki knew he had to fight, and had to win, but that didn't make war anything to be proud of.

I hate you, Edgar. I hate you with all my heart.

Death is but a dream and life is merely the daydream of death.

Woe is the mind of the common man, so easily controlled by the prospect of an ambition never to be truly attained. This is what tyrants live on and by what commoners are blissfully burdened and subdued.

Your dad's story is over. In six months or a year, this will be done for him. He won't be dealing with the consequences of what you choose to do now. You will. So you make this decision based on what you need.

But remember that good intentions pave many roads. Not all of them lead to hell.

Aren't we forever?

We live in a world where there is such a clear definition of what a girl should be that it takes almost no effort at all to completely hate ourselves.

Do it, SENATOR! And it will be the end of your career! Everyone will love to know of a scandal involving a senator who loves abusing luxury prostitutes." ~Larsson

The words ‘I love you’ are worthless when you don’t know who the 'I' is in that statement.

And to think of all colors in the world, blood chose to be red." ~ The Fray Theory

Maybe we can help. Where are you from? I've never seen you around here before. And, how did you get that cut? Where are you staying?” He shook his head and giggled. “Are you the police? You ask a lot of questions Phoenix.” “No. I just ... never mind.” I wanted to know more about him. The way those sparkly green eyes gazed at me. The way his dimples sunk deep into his cheeks, as he smiled and said my name with his deep voice.

All it takes, is one leap of faith.

It was too lonely to be heaven, and there wouldn't be stars in hell.

Trust no one," said Sullivan, "especially Teachers.

His smile was small and immediate, crooked, like I’d put his whole world off its axis, but he was somehow okay with that.

She was not in the body of a young woman but just as I remembered her: a little toddler with a beautiful smile. She reached out with her small hand, and I gripped her tiny fingers as I let go of the pain and sank deeper into the lake.

All night, I thought about that walk. The touch of the forest tickled my skin long after, while the scent lingered in my nostrils. It was unlike anything back home. There was a feeling in the atmosphere I couldn't shake--something that was trying to draw me back. I felt alive in that forest. --His Name is Moonlight

I drank from the crisp mountain stream, tasting filtered sky with a mossy undertone. I’ve never understood how being loved fully could change your entire perspective of the world. I only ever understood the wistfulness of it, and the longing and the frothy, violent bits. The mixed up, rained on parts. The escaped bits that smudge and bleed through. Slowly, I am coming to terms with how vulnerable I am to you, flat on my back like a submissive wolf pup. Daisy petals line your eyelashes, juice of a nectarine flavors your tongue. The side of your mouth twitches, hazy dreamscapes overtaking your mind while we bathe in the glorious autumn devastation.

The women in the kitchen sang: Sarampión toca la puerta. Viruela dice: ¿Quién es? Y Escarlatina contesta: ¡Aquí estamos los tres! The cook would sometimes shout a little madly, “Sing it again!” And the women would sing again: Measles knocks at the door. Smallpox asks, Who’s there? And Scarlet Fever replies: All three of us are here!

Pull back the curtain and jump down the rabbit hole.

...don’t discount intuition. It holds more wisdom than technology can ever afford

Small Acts of Kindness are Priceless

I’ve never been with a boy who hasn’t seen me naked. It’s always the squeaky futon, bear-it-all, turn-off-the-lights quickstep. Don’t chalk it up to “daddy issues.”Maybe I’m sick of keeping private parts private. I don’t want rainwater secrets on my lips, tasting of “don’t make too much noise”. October’s dust in my lungs, maybe I don’t want bits of four AM lingering in my subconscious. Smokers breathe in fire, coat their insides in ash. Is that suicide or arson? Listen to me, listen to me. I’m alive. I’M ALIVE.I’m naked and bruised, but I’m alive. I’m not a piece of fruit. Don’t press into my flesh, looking for soft spots. My whole body is tender and rotten, but I’m alive.I’m alive and just because you can see it all, doesn’t mean you know it all

Plus, I happened to be a history nerd. Why else would I be interested in a guy born in the year 519?

Although many things may still need to happen before you identify what your exact work will be, I know that every single person whom you’re meeting and every experience that you’re having is necessary to you discovering your purpose. They are points on a map leading you to the moment where a match will finally be lit and you will be able to see through the darkness.

I'm being pulled under - father and farther from the surface. My lungs continue to scream for air. Panic is building inside me, threatening to combust. I can't break free.Help! I can't break free!I open my mouth to scream.

Do not forget about the butterflies.

Ronan Lynch lived with every sort of secret.

Mistakes are part of life. And yet, for some reason, most parents in this world, wish their children made no mistakes at all, or as little as possible.

It’s like returning to a familiar room and noticing objects had been moved while you were gone—a chair here, a picture frame there. Items that were once brand new were suddenly broken in and worn from age. It was all very subtle, but enough to suspect paranormal activity or a cruel practical joke. When no one else saw what you saw, the freak factor really kicked in, because you were singled out and left questioning reality." ~Ellia

Pushing them (children) into a career that is “practical”/ “safe”/ prestigious/ well-paying doesn’t count as help. It’s how parents satisfy their own needs.

Her scream of utter horror and fright was a sound that no one in the chamber would ever forget.~Crispin.~