Best 9253 quotes in «girl quotes» category

I pictured a girl who made every moment, everything she touched, and everyone around her feel lighter and sweeter.

I pictured her tragically; it never once ocurred to me to picture her as the tragedy.

I remained silent, adrift in a torrent of mixed feelings. The Binding urged me to curl up in his embrace, to lose myself in his scent and surrender to his lips again; however, my own thoughts begged me to turn away. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t deny there was something between Ryan and me, but what? It was the curse! It had always been the curse…

I seldom even thought of myself as woman or girl, just person. Just human. I only became girl or woman when men walked into the room or I walked into theirs, when that gaze hit me like a hot breath. As a woman you walked in and we're assessed, ignored, or both.

I shrieked like a little girl, which, if you think about it, makes total sense.

I stare past her at the inspirational kitten posters. There's one of a soaking-wet kitten climbing out of a toilet with the caption "it could be worse!" "Just tell me whatever it is you're thinking," Mrs. Paulsen says. "Whatever is going through your mind right now." "I hope they didn't actually drop a cat in the toilet to get that picture," I choke out. "...Pardon?" "Nothing. Sorry.

I sure wasn't going to ask Aunt Sally, because if she told me once that getting your period was like a moth becoming a butterfly, she'd probably say that sexual intercourse was like a deer getting antlers or something.

I swear that girl was born with a pen in her hand, the moon in her hair, and stars in her soul.

I think we could be friends," he said, falling into step with her. "It's perfect because I wouldn't fall in love with you, like I do with the mermaids. Girls always seem so exotic. But it would be okay with you, because you're more like...you know. Not like a girl." He shrugged.

It is weird for him to point it out. No one points out how I look. I am not a "point out how she looks" kind of girl.

It is hard to write it in words that I can read, that re-establishes the fact that has been haunting me for the past one year.

It's because she doesn't love being lonely. When a girl loses her virginity, though, it may hurt, but it's real. It might be the realest, most private thing you could ever see in another person. You wonder who she'll be in that moment, when you finally get past all the pretend.

It’s bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boys’ games and work and manners!

Its better not to be born than falling in love.

It seemed any young woman at odds with her place in life--be she a genteel lady or a serving girl--might find a happier home within the pages of a book.

It's HE-RO," the boy argued. "No," the girl insisted, "it's HER-O.

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

It's interesting how much you can tell about someone from their friends.

It’s not difficult to put a girl in bottle; especially when she thinks, she is the boss.

It's not that girls are delusional, per se. It's just that they have this subtle ability to warp actual circumstances into something different.

It will be interesting to find out something about her that no one else knew.

It was a girl playing a harp, like in an orchestra. It was in this tree at our campsite. And since it was breezy weather that weekend, the girl's arms were almost always turning.

It’s so obvious that you’re gonna ask a good looking dude to be with you for the rest of your holiday while you only know his name for like 2 hours, 32 minutes, 12 seconds.” “Trisha! Being mean is my job! June, you’re so predictable, like, it’s not a shock for us if you’re gonna ask a good looking dude to be with you for the rest of your holiday while you only know his name for like 2 hours, 33 minutes, 2 seconds.

It's time to undo Rahim.

it took losing him to finally find myself. It took losing him a second time to be sure of myself. that was my first act of self-love.

I understand that she’s like the ocean; no matter how much people try, they’d never be able to fathom every part, every depth, and every crevice, that lies within.

I’ve been able to make totally insane associations. I can transform a simple toothache into maxillary cancer. An itchy elbow becomes an urticarial eruption, and a simple sneeze, pneumonia. That’s why I have already thought about joining a help group, like HA – Hypochondriacs Anonymous" Amanda Loeb

I want a girl who understands my silence

I was a daisy fresh girl and look what you've done to me.

I was crying for the little girl I had been, who had withstood terrifying nightmares of death and blood and war and maiming. And when I had tried to share those horrors, the shock on my friends' faces had told me I was not normal, and I should keep my dreams to myself.

I will not limit her to the ignorance of our ancestors. She will KNOW that she is powerful. She will KNOW that she is worthy. She will KNOW that she is beautiful. She will KNOW the multidimensional wonder of this amazing human experience and that there is no reason she can't have her feet firmly planted on the ground while also KNOWING that she is magic!

I was never afraid of the dark and I spent my youth walking through empty playgrounds at midnight, worried mothers telling girls to be careful and ”the world is an ugly place and not everyone wants you well”. But I was not afraid and I wished for adrenaline to make my veins pulsate in that way that puts them more on the outside of my skin than inside. After the first night with you I never walked alone at night again because suddenly I had something to lose. Something to save.

Many of the boys and men who are regarded as immature by some females are so deemed merely because they do not want to get married someday … or soon.

Love puts itself first, and makes its own plans. It maps you out instead. Maybe that's what makes it perfect

Listen my dear sister! You only fix something, when it’s broken. And you - are far from broken. Say to yourself, I am perfect, the way I am. Say to yourself, I am beautiful the way I am. Say to yourself, those who do not accept me the way I am, do not deserve me in their life.

Look at Tain Shir and you cannot fathom the name behind the cartouche. You cannot extract her reasons. You only see why men turn to religion: for hope that there are gods to oppose her.

Love is not for thrill-seekers, dreamers, or children with short attention spans. And you, son, fit into all three of those categories.

Make that: no one I ever wanted to kiss wanted to kiss a fat girl.

Mandy loved the smell of a sunny day after a night of rain. The sun hit the orange puddles, the overgrown, soft, green grass on her lawn, and it beamed down through the orange steel mill smog, sending otherworldly, bizarre shadows across the concrete sidewalk.

My heart almost vaulted out of my chest. I was snuggled against Ryan’s shoulder. We were burrowed under the cloak and sleeping bag, and my hand rested on his cheek, about to swat the stray hair that had fallen over my face. This wouldn’t have been so bad, if not for one tiny detail. Ryan was awake.

… MOM!” Martha finally screamed. “Mom, you’ve got to see these!” “Is it about Hermione?” She exclaimed, rushing into the middle of the room. Her mouth dropped open in horror when she noticed Hermione’s walls. “I can’t find any… polite… photos of her, mom.” “Why are there ones of her eating out of dumpsters and giving seniors the finger?” “No idea,” Martha replied. “Oh god… I’ll get one out of my wallet,” Her mom decided, hurrying out of the room frantically. ...It’s funny how when one thing happens, it can make you forget about something else.

Mother was like this sometimes. Conversations became riddles with traps in them, and your answers had consequences.

My Best Friend and I have spent plenty of time together, despite me being in my First Ever Relationship. This is because friends should always come first.

My first love was everything, all at once. The kind of love you fight for, the kind of boy you fight for.

My jaw went slack. Private rooms? Great, the button thing had been a step too far. Either he was totally getting the wrong impression—at least, not the impression I wanted to give—or…no. I didn’t want to consider the possibility he might know. People didn’t hide in forests in the middle of the night to protect themselves from a Binding. I was just weird like that. Rather, I had no choice, but…argh, what was I going to do now?!

My mood depends on the girl whom I love, but she is like a wildest hurricane, drifting shore to shore.

My nose is broken," I said. Damn that Dumbo. Made me self-conscious. "My ankle's broken," he said. "Then I'll come to you.

My problem is that I want to smoke the cigar and for someone else to light it. I want to blow out smoke. Like a volcano. Like a monster. I want to fume. I do not want to be the girl whose job it is to wail in a high-pitched voice at funerals.

Myra wasn't simple or complicated. She was different. She was not perfect, not even close but her flaws were intresting. She always had an opinion, something to say about everything.Most interesting thing about her is that she never said something to please, yet she was nice to be around.

No one could love a lonely girl, not unless she had the right kind of lonely