Teen fiction Quotes

I have a curse.
I HAVE A GIFT.
I'm a monster.
I'M MORE THAN HUMAN.
My touch Is lethal.
MY TOUCH IS POWER.
I am their weapon.
I WILL FIGHT BACK.

You think that because I am unwanted, because I am neglected and-and discarded-" My voice inches higher with every word, the unrestrained emotions suddenly screaming through my lungs. "You think I don't have a heart? You think I don't feel? You think that because I can inflict pain, that I should? You're just like everyone else. You think I'm a monster just like everyone else. You don't understand me at all.

How do you bear it?" Finnick looks at me in disbelief. "I don't, Katniss! Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking up." Something in my expression stops him. "Better not give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.

Too many adults wish to 'protect' teenagers when they should be stimulating them to read of life as it is lived.

All I really want to do today is go to the book store, drink coffee and read.

For a moment nothing happens. The figure stands still and I stand cold and alive and-
He starts to run. I make my way down the rocks, slipping, sliding, trying to get to the plain. I wish, I think, my feet clumsy, moving too fast, not fast enough, I wish i could run, I wish I'd written a whole poem, I wish I kept the compass-
And then I reach the plain and wish for nothing but what I have. Ky. Running toward me. I have never seen him run like this, fast, free, strong, wild. He looks so beautiful, his body moves so right. He stops just close enough for me to see the blue of his eyes and forget the red on my hands and the green I wish I wore. "You're here," he says, breathing hard and hungry. sweat and dirt cover his face, and he looks at me as though I'm the only thing he ever needed to see. I open my mouth to say yes. But I only have time to breathe in before he closes the last of the distance. All I know is the kiss.

Authors do not choose a story to write, the story chooses us.

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.

He Is looking at me through the smoke, across the fence. He never takes his eyes off me. His hair Is a crown of leaves, of thorns, of flames. His eyes are blazing with light, more light than all the lights in every city in the whole world, more light than we could ever invent If we had ten thousand billion years.

To be inspired is great, but to inspire is an honor.

If you don't believe in yourself, who will?' ~Maybeck

All of the emotions that hit people at times like these, all of them, were coursing through us both like a secret we couldn’t tell. Because if we said everything we were thinking and feeling right then…if we laid it all out for one another…we might not like the way the words strung together. Or the way fear and hope and bitterness and love mashed up into one big mess in the pits of our stomachs.

Two little dark figures, looking up. Are they looking at me? Is is him? This far away there's only one way to know. I point to the sky.

Anyone? On Snow's visit before the Victory Tour, he challenged me to erase any doubts of my love for Peeta. "Convince me," Snow said. It seems, under that hot pink sky with Peeta's life in limbo, I finally did. And In doing so, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me.

What If I still want to go?" "Then you'll go," he said. "But I wanted you to know the danger." "There's always danger." His green eyes met mine. I was starting to see It, how It could happen-Caleb and 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.

Maybe love, unfathomable love, was too much for people, so they had traded it for something easier.

Not for the first time, I wonder what it would feel like that, to be so beautiful that you don't even realize people are watching you, to be so confident that you don't even have to worry about being nervous or feeling self-conscious. I've spent what seems like my whole life trying to pretend I'm that way. What would it be like to have it just come naturally?

I reached down and picked up a baseball bat at my feet and I flung it as hard as it could. It circled and arced high in the air until it slammed against the side of the dining hall with a crack and fell.
I sat down in the dirt. Then I lay down in the dirt.
Because not only was there no trail to follow, there was no evidence he’d ever been here.
There was no evidence any of them had been here.

This will be the greatest discovery since the extinction of dinosaurs.
Assuming dinosaurs did exist, that is, Derkein said.
Alex shook her head. Couldn’t just let me have this moment, could you?

It's impossible to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even this one sentence. Because now I know that everything I say will be directly taken out on Peeta. Result in his torture. But not his death, no nothing so merciful as that. Snow will ensure that his life is much worse than death.

Here’s what I learned about life when we were going through that. We’re all human and mortal. We’re all going to suffer and die. But it’s how we are with each other during those times that proves God’s here with us. He turned his hand over in mine and entwined our fingers. He comes in through people. People who love us anyway. They jump right into the chaos with us and try to help us make sense of it. That’s what mercy is…it’s choosing to help, or forgive, or love even when it goes against all logic.

It doesn’t hurt much. I don’t know how it looks – he lowered his hand and turned his face to the side – but it can’t be that bad. What do you think? You’d date me, right?
Alex pushed him away, grinning. You’re an idiot.

I’d felt this before, when my granddad was in the hospital before he died. We all camped out in the waiting room, eating our meals together, most of us sleeping in the chairs every night. Family from far-flung places would arrive at odd hours and we’d all stand and stretch, hug, get reacquainted, and pass the babies around.
A faint, pale stream of beauty and joy flowed through the heavy sludge of fear and grief. It was kind of like those puddles of oil you see in parking lots that look ugly until the sun hits them and you see rainbows pulling together in the middle of the mess.
And wasn’t that just how life usually felt—a confusing swirl of ugly and rainbow?

I swing my arms to loosen myself up. Place my fists on my hips. then drop them to my sides. Saliva's filling my mouth at a ridiculous rate and i feel vomit at the back of my throat. I swallow hard and open my lips so I can get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods and-that's when i start crying.

I've come to realize that love is tragic, somewhere down the line it's inevitable. Fight for it.

To Love another unconditionally, is to make the ultimate sacrifice...

I’d stumbled upon the inner sanctuary of a woman who loved the world. Loved the faces of people she saw. Loved the way a hand looked when it was relaxed. Loved the way a woman looked when she touched her own face. The way a man looked when he opened himself to her. Loved the way wind changed a tree or a field or a child’s hair. The beauty of a neck meeting a shoulder. The softness of a smile that wasn’t forced.

She smells like spring and flowers and rain, even though it’s winter. Sometimes, he thinks he loves her so much that his mind is unable to distinguish between love and obsession. Which is worse?

They said she killed herself.Everyone was saying It. What started out as a rumor, quietly whispered among small gatherings of polite people, quickly grew into something that was openly discussed in a large gatherings of impolite people. I was so sick of hearing them talk about It. They questioned me. Over and over again, trying to find out If i knew what happened. But my answers didn't change. Yet It never failed-someone else would ask, as if one day my reply would suddenly be different. I didn't know, but i should have...and I've been haunted ever since.

Even if that is the truth, Derkein said, what does it have to do with my father suddenly thinking he can raise the dead?

Aku pernah mengalah di masa lalu. Dan kini, aku bisa saja menyerah kembali, agar ia dapat memilih lelaki yang terbaik baginya. Namun bagaimana mungkin aku melakukannya, jika ternyata lelaki terbaik itu adalah diriku sendiri - Forgotten

I won’t forget it, I said. I hope you meet someone perfect one day.
Ha…yeah, that’s just it. I think I already did. As we opened our doors to step out, he touched my arm. Just to be clear, if I, like, leaned over and whispered your name in your ear, still nothing?

But I understood, now, that we don’t live only for ourselves. We’re connected by millions of shared experiences and dreams and nightmares, all tied together with compassion.
I learned that even when we’re going through our darkest winter, spring is waiting to appear.

There's something to say about inspiration - when it comes into your life...the feeling is insatiable.

Then let me be your mercy, he said. I’ll never be able to give you smart answers about why we suffer, but I can come into your world and try to be some kind of help to you.

I’m saying I love you, Cami. All of that was as real for me as it was for you. I’m asking if you’ll stick this out beside me. I’m willing to lose my badge and even be dishonorably discharged if that’s the case. I just don’t want to lose you.

I found I could only glance at him for tiny moments and then I had to look away. He was perfect enough to hurt my feelings for a long time, and I wanted to let him.

For a second, I stared at the map of her veins just under the surface of her thin skin. It was like her body was trying to become diaphanous. Instead of getting harder and stronger and full of life as we age, we disappear slowly. Our skin thins and evaporates. Our nails barely coat our fingertips. Our hair falls out. We are never more see-through.

Who would want to be the prey in a world full of hunters?

Magic is all about words and believing. If you believe then anything is possible.

You look incredible, Kavanagh, Quinn whispered close to my ear. Are you trying to kill me?
Ssshhh, I hissed. They’re going to hear you.
I can’t tell my date she’s beautiful?
I turned my head. No. No, you can’t.

Okay, news flash. Jealousy is not something I enjoy. I hadn’t felt it much before. But I’d also never been in love. And I’d never been 3,300 miles away from the girl I loved while some punk sat next to her on a couch. A punk who had designs on her, according to Dylan. I needed to lay eyes on this guy.

Do you know how hard it is to paint kindness? She leaned her hip against a desk in the corner of the room, still watching me. It’s the only part of a person I really want to capture. Everything else seems to get lost in layers of deception or defensiveness. But not kindness. You can’t hide it. And people either are or they aren’t.

I was a rule-follower. I obeyed all forms of authority. I had never before encountered a situation where the authority was clearly wrong and I had to stand up for what was right.

The first thing I needed, possibly the only thing, was to kiss her and I did, for as long as I could. I let us both breathe for a minute, and I perched her on a counter so I could touch the face I’d missed so much.
I poured every bit of frustration, anger, sadness, and worry into that kiss. Meg understood and received it all, pushing her fingers into my hair and giggling against my lips. I didn’t care that anybody passing by could be watching us through the window, or that I could fall right there and sleep for a week.

We all think when we’re young that we want excitement and highs and passion. To hell with ordinary.
I smiled and she chuckled. But when we find ourselves in these adult bodies, she said. When we wise up a little, or get slapped in the face by life, we realize we just want all things to be equal. She put the heels of her hands together near her heart like the Yoga prayer position. And we want to understand them better.

It was an oddly satisfying idea to feel bereft as I left my mother this time. We only feel bereft when we’re deprived of something meaningful.

I thought back to Meg’s advice about Hemingway sentences—simple declarative statements that showed the truth and distilled the meaning. My first attempt at that had been cynical and messed up. I gave it a go again.
Find one lost sheep.
The angels rejoice.

Sometimes, in the stillness of my room, my mom’s voice came to me, repeating things she’d said for months. Like, My skin is melting off my face, isn’t it? And, My whole body feels dead from the crap they’re pouring into me. Do I look green to you? And, When I’m naked, I can see my heart beating.