Best 1693 quotes in «young adult quotes» category

Which skin shall I give you, Clara Ferber? Do you want fur? Do you want stone?

While parchment may burn and gold may be stained or melted down, the things that are truly important to us will never lose their value.

While there are memories I wish I could dispose of, sometimes my memories are the only things that keep me sane.

Who am I kidding? This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s my life.

Who am I really? Am I still the same person if I'm not even technically a person anymore? Does being stronger make me different? Will it?

Who cares about fault? As my dad would say, ‘Blame is like your rear-end and reflection. Seeing either always leaves you looking back.’ I’m more worried about what’s in front of me. And right now . . . the view is all messed up.” ~ Ellia

Whoever controls the king, controls the kingdom

Who is it who decides that one man should live and another should die? My life wasn't worth any more than his, but he's the one who's buried, while I get to enjoy at least a few more hours above the ground. Is it chance, random and cruel, or is there some purpose or pattern to all this, even if it lies beyond our ken?

Whuppins were like kid taxes we paid with our behinds.

Why can’t I take you? Why is it so hard? You have the other half of my soul; with you I will be complete! So. Then. Why?” Crispin murmured clenching his fists. Oh, he pitied the fool who would be in his way once he returned to his domain. “Oh, what suffering will befall them in her place,” he smiled wickedly. ~Crispin~

Why am I the only one who thinks she’s messing with us? - Egg

Why didn't you let me die? You could have finally been free." "I gave up trying to imagine a world without you." - Essallie & Kayden

Why spend your whole life on the high seas looking for treasure,' Peter asked, talking to the clouds as he scaled a rope up what remained of the half-crumbled mast, 'when you could have a promised pay check in exchange for all the life you'd live between nine-and-five.

Will you cower for the rest of your life and let the world run you over?” She grabbed her by the face, her intense eyes only inches away from hers. “Or will you fight for what you want and take this world by storm?

Will you tame your fear or let it control you?

Wishing that I could stay right here in this moment of not doing, but simply being, forever.

Wistful notes spoke of loneliness, as solitary as the final birdsong of autumn or the trill of summer’s last cicada before the wintry freeze.

With all those mutants out there, who would chance going beyond the Perimeter after dark?” — Jimbo

Without thinking, I step a little closer, reaching out slowly to slide a fingertip over the largest petal of the lily tattoo on her lower back. Instantly a vibration moves up my arm, and I swear the mark on my hand burns against my skin. I clench my fingers into a fist, but I don’t step away. “Did you feel that?” she asks. I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I feel so much, always so much. She takes my hand and brings it to her side again, resting it on the violets. I look at the purple flowers between my fingers and feel the heat of her skin, the way it slides beneath my palm, soft as silk. And that vibration moves through my arm again. Her breath quickens. I find myself moving closer as her blue eyes go wide with wonder. My heart stutters and my chest aches with some unknown need. “Are you doing this?” I ask. Is she making me want this? “No,” she breathes. The smell of her turns to spice, sharp and warm, and I know I’m sensing her now, even through the block in the house. We stand like that for an eternity, still as statues on the outside, but inside I’m running, running toward a place I’ve never been. I should be terrified. But all I feel is strength. Rightness. And then Kara moves, her hands skimming up my chest, testing the boundaries. Her palms slide to my shoulders, her fingers tracing the line of the muscles in my arms, down to my waist. She grips my shirt, stretching it a little, waiting for me to tell her to stop. But I watch her lift it, let her pull it up, raising my arms, and I even take the last of it off myself, dropping it to the floor. We breathe, staring at each other. The vibrations move between us. My left arm buzzes with them. I think she’s doing it. Whatever’s happening, it’s her. I reach up and brush my marked knuckles across her cheek, amazed at the feel of her, the way her eyes seem to see everything, the way she pulls me into her. I can’t seem to remember why I shouldn’t kiss her. And kiss her. And . . . I kiss her, taking her face in both hands, skimming my thumb over her jaw as she leans into the touch, reaching out to curl her fingers around the back of my neck. I have to remind myself to breathe. I need more of her. The emotions roll over me in a rush, a tangle of sensation and movement, heat and sugar and heady aromas. I grip her tighter. Her nails dig into my shoulders. My hands slide down her spine. The kiss deepens, goes on forever, until I can barely see sense. I explore her shape, the feel of her ribs, the textures and taste of her skin on my tongue as I kiss her neck, her shoulders, her chest. As I draw trembling gasps from her lips, she grips me so hard it hurts. Our bodies mesh. Our breath mingles in frenzied desperation. Nothing else exists except her. Her warmth. Her spice. Her.

With the level of destruction there has been, things could go backwards so quickly if no one works to preserve what humanity has learned. One generation not learning is all it would take for the world to regress to the Stone Age.”, FADE by Kailin Gow

With the warmth of an alien sun on his back, Jacob took a deep breath at the door and knocked.

With you, it's... I don't even know how to say it. It's like you're a work of art. Every time I'm with you, I see something new. Something beautiful.

With the threat of them being potential spies or saboteurs, nobody will argue against our actions, and history itself will vindicate us.

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.

Words, to me, are the same as an instrument is to a musician. I never know where this typewriter is going to take me until I begin. I never know what I'm feeling until I read over what I have written.

Would've been useful when I was about eight," I said. "I used to have wicked nightmares." I did, too: stupid dreams about being chased by Elmo. A psycho Elmo with eyes like that Chucky doll. I'd wake up screaming and Vicky would come running in and ask what the nightmare was about. I never told her. I was too embarrassed.

Would you like me to go take that violin for you? I'd gladly fight whatever angry mob rises up if it might make you smile.

Wow." Josh stopped and ran a hand over his shaved head. "I mean, yeah, there's no beating that. That's the Usain Bolt of embarrassing texts. That's made me feel a lot better, actually." "Oh, good. Great. Glad my shit-show of a life could be of service.

Writing is about truth, whether it be fiction or a school essay. Don't give in and 'fake it till you make it.' Criticize what upsets you.

Writing is 90% procrastination, 8% perspiration, and 6%biscuit None of it is math.

Yeah,” I said. “And that thing you just did...” “This?” he inquired, puckering his lips again at me. “Yes, that. The blowfish beat you to that, jackass. How do you like jackass?” “Heeeeeeee-HAW!” he cried, punching both fists into the air. “Stick to something more loving though. Then I won’t have the urge to bray every time you call me.

Yeah, well. Don’t be that guy, Brady. Don’t be the guy who loves his horse too much.

Yes, boys are a little like shoes. Why? Well...They can be useful. But mainly...They are nice to look at. Getting the right one can be a lovely accessory to an outfit. There are times when you couldn't do without them. And there are times when you'd rather do without them. Get the wrong ones and they can hurt. There are many types and often the ones that look the nicest are completely unpractical.

Yes, his ear. I was attracted to his ear. While I was in church. I'm pretty sure that solidifies my position as the weirdest person on the planet.

Yes, from drinking too much beer and generally being a tyrannical egomaniac.

Yes, I’m Daniel Tahi." I know what your lips taste like.I know you roll your eyes when you think someone is an idiot. I know that you wish you were six inches shorter because you hate being taller than most of the boys you've ever met. Your name is tattooed across my chest and written on my heart.You are a fire daughter of earth, fanua afi and I am vasa loloa,son of the ocean. I am yours...And you can’t even remember who I am.

You act like you're invincible, but I know deep down you want someone to hold your hand and buy you flowers and look you in the eye and tell you you're his soul mate. You want someone who will love every piece of you, even the pieces you can't love yourself.

You always think you want to be noticed. Until you are.

You are a bright light, Elli.’ His own breath hitches, a sound that I cannot quite grasp. His eyes are darkening, his lips tightening. His hands grasp me tighter and he moves closer, his mouth inches from mine, I can almost taste the sweetness and saltiness of his scent, the rich coffee beans and sugar, the vague spearmint. I say nothing, I’m not even sure I’m breathing. ‘You shouldn’t have to see such pain, such blackness. You are too pure.’ His lips do not collide with mine, his skin does not brush against me, only his voice sends a shiver down every notch in my spine, trailing goose bumps over my skin. He tilts his head to the side, his lips gently brushing against my ear. And that is all. I’m not good enough for him. I’m not. That’s why… that’s why… ‘Too pure…

You and I have been friends long enough to know how to treat each other . . . I'm leaving for college. I think I've outgrown the rules.

You are a blue rose, Letti. It’s almost impossible that you exist amongst the other roses but you do. You bring wonder to those who are lucky enough to find you. The blue rose is lonely, lost and awaits someone special to believe in them; the same feeling I got from you the day we met. Blue roses are incomprehensible and mysterious. And so are you.

You are all dear to me. it is simply a matter of discovering who shall be the dearest.

You are all that exists on the earth and under the sky that I do love. - Keiran

You are like a panther. You are strong, brave, resolute, graceful and stunningly beautiful, yet cat-like cautious and distrustful.

You battled monsters. You sweat and cried your way to this one prolific moment where you finally realize that those dark days and sleepless nights were pre-requisites to your becoming.

You can always tell the heart of man by what he do, and by what he don't do...

You can be a great man and still be a fool. Many of our country’s leaders can attest to that. Were they still living.

You can be beautiful and young even as you get older. Keep an active life.

You can come see me for a visit anytime. It's like how the song goes: I'll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places. . .

You cannot make this kind of decision," he said. "Go off with someone you barely know. You're seventeen." "And you're the guy who got drunk on eggnog last Christmas and danced to 'Turn The Beat Around' in Aunt Rachel's wig, so stop acting like you're in charge." "We agreed not to mention that ever again," Jason whispered furiously.