Best 1693 quotes in «young adult quotes» category

If you wear smiles like armor- If you put on personalities like clothes- If you can't show the world all that you are- This book is for you.

I got it wrong – I was singing for myself when I should have been singing for you all. - Burt

I grab the nearest lamppost when my knees threaten to give out, panting for breath as the words rip through me

I gotta look out for my band mates. - Tea

I guess it depends on whether you want perfect. I hear some girls prefer their boyfriends a little more flawed and troubled.”, Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

I guess when you live somewhere every day you forget just how wonderful it can be. Or maybe you forget just how good some of the other things in the world are, like great friends.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

I guess crushes that have lasted for years don’t go away that easily.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

I guess I like things that take time and attention. More worthwhile that way.

I had evolved a year too soon, and it nearly broke me

I had an unfortunate habit of allowing my anger to blind me. An extremely unfortunate habit. Glate knew that, and he knew how to stop me from doing something stupid. He was my sense of reality in a world thrown off balance. But he wasn’t here now.

I had a whole evening planned. I was hoping to sweep you off your feet. Like those guys in your stupid books.

I hated all this: the mystery of myself.

I haven't finished revisiting Sleeping Beauty. As a faerie tale, that one is rife with inherent difficulties. After all, the world doesn't stop just because one person is asleep.

I have to get off this elevator. I can't ride with him, Can't look at him, Can't be this close to him. Can't, Can't, can't.

I have two rules I follow religiously: #1. Don't sweat the small stuff. #2. It's all small stuff.

I head in the direction of the Eiffel Tower when I exit the alley, relieved to be out of the dark.

I hold her, and I know now why caring about another person is so damn scary. It's not that they won't care about you back, because that either happens or it doesn't. You live with it or you do everything you can to change it. The really scary thing is the moment you realize that for the rest of your life, you'll feel twice the pain, twice the joy, twice the fear. Twice as helpless to control it all, too.

I gulped, mesmerized by his hypnotic eyes and charming, spearmint smile, and uttered something intelligent like,"Uh, huh." ~ from Dragon Flight

I immediately thought of the stars. Stars. Heavenly bodies formed by huge clouds of dust and gas bumping into one another, getting bigger, their gravity getting stronger. Once hot enough, nuclear fusion occurs. And then a star is formed. People are shaped in a similar way—just like stars—excessive amounts of dust and hot gas. And like stars, everyone’s life has a turning point prior to their big bang. The shit show before the creation. Y ’know, one of those moments that can fuck you up. Cleopatra’s was when her father named her joint regent at fourteen. Fucked-up. Bruce Wayne’s when he witnessed his parents get murdered. Fucked-up. Charles Manson’s when his mother sold him for a pitcher of beer. Fucked. Up. Not to mention 'Helter Skelter.

I just held her hand and tried to imagine the world without us and for about one second I was a good enough person to hope she died so she would never know that I was going, too. But then I wanted more time so we could fall in love.

I just think when extraordinary people are discovered, extraordinary exceptions should be made. " ~ Sarajane From Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy)

I-" Irsa took a careful breath to steady her words. " I have felt alone for most of my life. Until you." She placed the shell on his chest. " But I promise I won't feel alone anymore. I will never forget." She stood on shaky feet. "I will always remember." "I love you Rahim al-Din Walad . Thank you for loving me in return.

I just want to domething that matters. Or be something that matters. I just want to matter.

I kiss him. My mouth on his. Without fear. Without thought. All of my emotions, my love, my trust, wrapped up in this embrace.

I just want to matter,' he said unsmiling. It was like pulling a curtain back, peering behind a mask made of smiles and quips. This was the real James, this young, bright, desperate thing. There was a burning intensity to his eyes, and she saw for the first time a boy who would sell his heart--not for some hobby, but because he thought it was the only way to life the life he wanted. They had that in common.

I kiss him to get him to stop talking. If he keeps talking I will love him, and I don't want to love him. I really don't. As strategies go, it's not my finest. Kissing is just another way of talking except without the words.

I knew from Brianna that being beautiful wasn’t all great. Brianna had changed in middle school. One day we were both seventh graders and the next, she was a supermodel who had a seventh grader for a best friend.

I knew I was not alone. They would never leave until ever last one of us was gone.

I knew that feeling, the sense of panic that stretched time, turning seconds into years, and the deep pain that came from being hurt by not one person but many, a gang of bullies that expanded into a neighborhood and then into a community, until you questioned the whole world. And your last thought, as you stretch your arm until your fingers are inches from that lifeline, is how if you survive, you'll find a way to help fix what was broken, so you can say that yes, you want to be part of the world again.

I know Caraval can be magical and romantic and wonderful, but the spells it casts aren’t easily shaken off, and half the time I don’t even think people realise they have been bewitched.

I know exactly who you are.” I took a step forward, and another, until I was standing right in front of him. Then my words turned to ice. “You are the selfish, spineless son of a king who is too afraid to be his own man. You would rather hide behind your status than fight for something that could actually mean something.” There, that felt good. “And it’s a shame, really it is, because, according to you, I was the one true friend you had.

I knew nothing of death, and, for some unexplainable reason, I was beginning to feel guilty for that. -Jessica

I know for a fact that he regularly steals from self-checkouts and sticks his gum underneath desks. Those are not the actions of a moral person.

I know I can’t let this summer be the last happy summer we have at the beach house.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

I know I play with danger every time I swim, but I need this. I’m Mer and the ocean is mine.

I know Matt is your friend, but I think he’s a douche bag.

I know. I know we don't have a lot of time, but I'm she's got, and I've been hiking through the wilderness and fighting fucking monsters and shadow-wielding assholes, and I've only got more of that to look forward to, so I'd like to take a couple of hours to hug my mother!

I know what I can do to a girl with a word, a look, a touch. And I want to do them all to her.

Lastly and most importantly, I bought a dozen new bras and twenty pairs of underwear. Having ripped my last two really good ones to shreds during my change, I figured these were a good investment. They probably wouldn’t last very long. I bit my lip and went back and got four more of each. “Seriously, Grazi, what are you going to do with all those bras and panties? And you really should consider a thong.”

I leaned down and looked at his handsome face. I wanted to kiss him in a way that would remain soft and true on his lips, all the while help him from escaping the overwhelming sense of sadnes that he felt. I pressed forward and kissed him, tasting the saltiness of fish against his lips, and the disappointment that he held so very deeply inside. I kissed him long and wide, yet limp and yielding, pulling myself away from reality to only drown in the fantasy of our love. I touched his mouth in such a loving way, that not even his incapability to reach into my soul, could tear us away from exchanging such romance. He immediately gave into the kiss, his sadness slowly giving way to the moment that we so intimately shared. It amazed me what a merman could do, even when flowing tears streamed down his face. Through the bridge of kissing, I had healed him, and he had healed me in return.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to his, and it breaks me open. His hand leaves my face and traces notes up my arms, strikes chords on my throat and up into my hair. His mouth forms lyrics that expose my soul. The kiss is like a song played only once. And forever.

I know you’re scared. I’m scared too, all of the time. But I have been running for the last six years and I can’t run anymore. Our world is falling apart. We aren’t living, not really. We are just… surviving.

I leaned against the desk, ran my hand over my father’s paperwork, and picked up a pen. Turning around, I shoved it into my father’s hand. "What’s this?" he asked, raising a brow. "You’ll need it to sign my death certificate," I said, pain vibrating my veins against my muscles and bones. "Are we done now?” (Eric)

I lied to you,’ she said, hanging her head in shame, ‘more than once. In fact, I swore that my lies were truth. I can’t understand how it could have happened. It just came out of my mouth and by the time I realised what I'd done, it was too late. ‘It’s never too late to realise that you were mistaken, Sophiel.

I liked to count my blessings in a world where they were so few, and he was one of mine.

I lie more convincingly than I tell the truth.

I like you, Tess.

I lived in New York City back in the 1980s, which is when the Bordertown series was created. New York was a different place then -- dirtier, edgier, more dangerous, but also in some ways more exciting. The downtown music scene was exploding -- punk and folk music were everywhere -- and it wasn't as expensive to live there then, so a lot of young artists, musicians, writers, etc. etc. were all living and doing crazy things in scruffy neighborhoods like the East Village. I was a Fantasy Editor for a publishing company back then -- but in those days, "fantasy" to most people meant "imaginary world" books, like Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. A number of the younger writers in the field, however, wanted to create a branch of fantasy that was rooted in contemporary, urban North America, rather than medieval or pastoral Europe. I'd already been working with some of these folks (Charles de Lint, Emma Bull, etc.), who were writing novels that would become the foundations for the current Urban Fantasy field. At the time, these kinds of stories were considered so strange and different, it was actually hard to get them into print. When I was asked by a publishing company to create a shared-world anthology for Young Adult readers, I wanted to create an Urban Fantasy setting that was something like a magical version of New York...but I didn't want it to actually be New York. I want it to be any city and every city -- a place that anyone from anywhere could go to or relate to. The idea of placing it on the border of Elfland came from the fact that I'd just re-read a fantasy classic called The King of Elfland's Daughter by the Irish writer Lord Dunsany. I love stories that take place on the borderlands between two different worlds...and so I borrowed this concept, but adapted it to a modern, punky, urban setting. I drew upon elements of the various cities I knew best -- New York, Boston, London, Dublin, maybe even a little of Mexico City, where I'd been for a little while as a teen -- and scrambled them up and turned them into Bordertown. There actually IS a Mad River in southern Ohio (where I went to college) and I always thought that was a great name, so I imported it to Bordertown. As for the water being red, that came from the river of blood in the Scottish folk ballad "Thomas the Rhymer," which Thomas must cross to get into Elfland. [speaking about the Borderland series she "founded" and how she came up with the setting. Link to source; Q&A with Holly, Ellen & Terri!]

I like to keep my dreams attainable. Eat cheese, sleep on a nice bed, have my work in the same museum as Rothko--the usual.

I'll go over again and again until I've finally crossed to where he is