Best 48 quotes of Cath Crowley on MyQuotes

ALYCE: 'Gracie's got brown hair, like me. She's about the same height, too. People notice her. I think it's her voice. It's always louder than you expect and covered with laughter. I was surprised when she said she didn't want to work with me. I don't know Gracie very well, but I remember once in Year 3 she gave me an invitation to her party. She spelt my name right. Everyone always spells it with an 'i', even the teachers. Ever since then I thought she would be nice. I never thought she'd look at me like I was nothing.

And I talk to hear her talk back.

A psychic friend could come in very handy." I reshuffled my cards. "I predict I will," she said.

as if all the years haven't dulled that moment. She's staring at a spot of air in front of it, and I know, in that spot of air, is her son.

Asking's the easy bit. Then there's everything that comes after.

Being different is the only way to live

Bye bye binary. For gender, for sexuality, for everything. ... Lots of people can like lots of people. And could everyone please get over it and update their idea of normal.

Dad and I leave town in the early dark. It's the second Sunday of the holidays, and we pack up the old blue car with enough clothes for summer and hit the road. It's so early he's wiping hills of sand piled in the corners of his eyes. I wipe a few tears from mine. Tears don't pile, though. They grip and cling and slide in salty trails that I taste until the edge of the city.

Does anyone believe in that? That souls can transmigrate?’ ‘I do,’ says George. ‘I think souls can be in books, too.

Do many guys ask you out twice?" "Only the ones with balls.

Don't go confusing stupidity with guts.

Every time he looked at me I felt like I'd touched my tongue to the tip of a battery. In art class I'd watch him lean back and listen and I was nothing but zing and tingle. After a while, the tingle turned to electricity, and when he asked me out my whole body amped to a level where technically I should have been dead. I had nothing in common with a sheddy like him, but a girl doesn't think straight when she's that close to electrocution.

How can I explain to her that I just can't come home? It's too soon, it's too late; I do want to be with Helen every second of the day but at the same time I don't want to be with her at all. I want to have back what I felt at the beginning. I could no more leave her then than leave my arms or legs. How do you find the beginning, though? There are no roads or signs. You start to doubt it even exists. The hardest thing isn't deciding that I want to go back to when Helen and Gracie and I were us. The most difficult thing is finding the map to get there.

I didn’t say you weren’t smart. I said you were stupid.” “I guess I’m too dumb to see the difference.

I feel like the universe cheated Cal and cheated us along with him," I say now. Before Cal died, Mum would have explained calmly and logically that the universe was all existing matter and space- 10 billion light-years in diameter, consisting of galaxies and solar systems, stars, and the planets. All of which simply do not have the capacity to cheat a person of anything. Tonight she lights another cigarette. "It did," she says, and blows smoke at the stars.

If my like for you was a footy crowd, you'd be deaf cos of the roar. And if my like for you were a boxer, there'd be a dead guy lying on the floor. And if my like for you were sugar, you'd lose your teeth before you were twenty. And if my like for you was money, let's just say you'd be spending plenty.

If my like for you was a football crowd, you’d be deaf ’cause of the roar. And if my like for you was a boxer, there’d be a dead guy lying on the floor. And if my like for you was sugar, you’d lose your teeth before you were twenty. And if my like for you was money, let’s just say you’d be spending plenty.

I'll never throw these small things away. There will never be a time when I don't want them, all the tiny parts of Cal that made a life.

I'm always looking for what will make me whole. What will make me happy? Somewhere along the way I started to think it wasn't Helen anymore. She hasn't changed. Her laugh is still the one I remember. Her finger is still the one I put the ring on all those years ago. I can't understand why I don't want to curve next to her, keep her back warm anymore. Surely you don't lose love like keys?

I'm eclectic,' she said to the HDs once and I could see them trying to work out where she plugged in.

I read somewhere that spiders can spin silk strong enough to hold the weight of a thousand trucks. I tried to imagine those lines of silver, thinner than air, stronger than steel. Sometimes I think that a hundred webs, invisible gossamers, connect Gracie and me. They coat our bodies, tie our limbs together, link our hearts. They can stretch across cities, countries – even anger. Unbreakable. I felt them that first time I watched her play soccer. She needed to win so badly. I watched a new Gracie crack out of her cocoon that day. Grey, moth-like, she seemed covered in a dust that let her take to the air. Fly. They’re beautiful things, moths, with their dark patterned wings hooking on wind to push them forward. You have to be careful with them, though. Brush them just lightly, and they can’t fly anymore.

I spent the weekend after our date wishing I could stab him with my fluffy-duck pen and staring at the phone hoping he'd call. Dating is a very tricky business.

It’s like he’s picking up parts of the world and showing them to me, saying, See? It’s beautiful.

It’s when I’m around some people that my entire vocabulary goes on vacation. Like now

I want to sit on the other side of the table from him so he doesn't think I'm interested, but there's no room on the other side so I sit as far away from him as I can and try to have an out-of-body experience.

Love and romance are things worth waiting for.

Love’s like an egg. Break it, and you might still have almost every bit of yolk and white, but there’s no way you’re getting that back in the shell. And even if you could, there’d be still all the cracks.

Mum and I were both there at the moment that Cal died, and sometimes I worry that seeing that has altered something so fundamental about us. Sometimes I worry we lost some of our humanness that day, and It's not coming back.

My dad was a magician too. Got in his car and disappeared.

No guts, no glory. - Bert

Now you're dead, and I'm buried.

Real is better, The truth is better. Painful but better.

She looked at me with those empty eyes, and I thought, I'm going to make sure I fill them up with something.

Shitness, my sister says, has a momentum that good luck just doesn't have.

sometimes I just want to sit in the same place forever because I don't have the energy for another day without Cal in it.

Sometimes I wish I was a guy. Life’s so much easier for them.

That's what we think because we can't imagine what it's like to not exist.

The night didn't go so well because I broke his nose, which was an accident that happened when I hit him in the face because he touched my arse.

These must be the most depressing words in the history of love. "I tried really hard to love you".

The stars are on the inside. They are effing beautiful.

Tonight’s going to be one of those things that seem to last forever.

Were you in love with Emma?" I ask. "I was hard-core obsessed," he says without thinking about it. "Not in love." "What's the difference?" He's about to throw a stone at ta yard light but stops. "Prison," he says, and puts the stone in his pocket.

We watch her walk into the spotlight she’s been been hiding from most of her life. Sure, friendship is all about believing in someone so hard they believe it, too. Sure, it’s about trust. But if anyone hurts her tonight, it’s about ripping them apart with my bare hands and really enjoying it.

Why do want to find him so bad?’ I ask after a while, but she’s not listening. I watch her a bit longer. ‘Why do you want to find him so bad?’ I ask again. She blinks and comes out of her dream. She flicks the band on her wrist. ‘I just do.’ - Ed Skye

words do matter. They’re not pointless. If they were pointless then they couldn’t start revolutions and they wouldn’t change history and they wouldn’t be the things that you think about every night before you go to sleep. If they were just words we wouldn’t listen to songs,

You know who Mr. Darcy is?" "I exist, therefore I know who Mr. Darcy is.

You’re not like other girls, you know that, right?’ Ed asks. ‘I’ve been aware of the problem,’ I tell him.

Your idea of romance requires a corset and a time machine.