Best 70 quotes in «carry on quotes» category

It is madness. But sometimes, madness is the only path forward.

It's always fire with Baz. I can't believe he hasn't incinerated me yet. Or burned me at the stake.

It’s Baz they’re checking out, not me. He’s got to be scared, or at least nervous, but he doesn’t look it. I swear he gets less ruffled the more that he’s threatened. (When I’m the one threatening him, that’s infuriating. But it’s kind of cool now.)

It’s impolite to stare, you know, even at your friends.” “Are we friends?” I asked her. More surprised than anything else. “I’m helping you with your lesson, aren’t I?” She was. She’d just helped me shrink a football to the size of a marble. “I thought you were helping me because I’m thick,” I said. “Everyone’s thick,” she replied. “I’m helping you because I like you.

It's the good things that hurt when you're missing them.

It was a good weekend. Five thousand words of Carry On. Fish tacos with radish and shredded cabbage. Only two more conversations about Wren. And Sunday afternoon brought Levi back, taking her front steps two at a time.

It's unnecessarily grandiose to use an Open Sesame on the doors, but I do it anyway because I know everyone will be in the dining hall, and I may as well make an entrance.

[Martin Hellman:] Unless you're foolish enough to be continually excited, you won't have the motivation, you won't have the energy to carry it through.

I wind my fingers in his hair. It's thicker than mine, and curlier, and it shines golden in the firelight. There's a mole on his cheek that I've wanted to kiss since I was 12. I do.

Right. So I didn’t tell her. Now, where do we start?” His face falls into a pout. “I was counting on Bunce to tell us where to start.” “Let’s start with what we know,” I say. That’s where Penelope always starts. “Right.” Baz actually seems nervous. He’s tapping the chalk against his trouser leg, leaving white smudges.

My dad loves marriage rites. Any sort of family magic, actually. He and my mother are bound together in five dimensions.’ ‘That’s lovely,’ Baz says, and I’m terrified because I think he means it.

Penny grabs my arm when I walk past Baz’s bed on the way to the bathroom. “It’s good to see you,” she whispers. I smile. Again. Penny makes my cheeks hurt. “Don’t make a scene,” I whisper back.

Penny sets down her book. “You don’t want to know why your girlfriend was snogging your sworn enemy?” “I don’t know about ‘sworn,’ ” I say. “I’ve never taken an oath.” “I’m pretty sure Baz has.” “Anyway, they weren’t snogging.” Penny shakes her head. “If I caught Micah holding hands with Baz, I’d want an explanation.” “So would I.” “Simon.

Rome wasn't built on mutual admiration.

The first time I came back to Watford, my second year, I climbed right into my bed and cried like a baby. I was still crying when Baz came in. “Why are you already weeping?” he snarled. “You’re ruining my plans to push you to tears.

She looks over at his empty bed, and her sadness is so potent that in that moment, I'd do anything to get him back for her. (I'd do anything to bring him back.)

Simon Snow is still going to die kissing me. Just not today.

Someday I will succeed in my dream. Someday I will overcome my fears. As for me in this current moment though, I must just carry on.

Tall. Black hair swept back from his forehead. Lips curled up in a sneer... I know that face as well as my own.

That's what I came back to tell you. I loved you before I met you, and I loved you more the moment I held you. And I never meant to leave you so soon. I never would have left you. Simon, Simon. My rosebud boy.

Sharing a room with the person you want most is like sharing a room with an open fire. He's constantly drawing you in. And you're constantly stepping too close. And you know it's not good--that there is no good--that there's absolutely nothing that can ever come of it. But you do it anyway. And then... Well. Then you burn.

sometimes all we need to be able to continue alone are the dead rattling the walls that close us in.

So . . . ,” she says, following him to the chalkboard. “You got a Visiting. An actual Visiting—Natasha Grimm-Pitch was here.” Baz glances back over his shoulder. “You sound impressed, Bunce.” “I am,” Penelope says. “Your mother was a hero. She developed a spell for gnomeatic fever. And she was the youngest headmaster in Watford history.” Baz is looking at Penny like they’ve never met. “And,” Penny goes on, “she defended your father in three duels before he accepted her proposal.” “That sounds barbaric,” I say. “It was traditional,” Baz says. “It was brilliant,” Penny says. “I’ve read the minutes.” “Where?” Baz asks her. “We have them in our library at home,” she says. “My dad loves marriage rites. Any sort of family magic, actually. He and my mother are bound together in five dimensions.” “That’s lovely,” Baz says, and I’m terrified because I think he means it. “I’m going to make time stop when I propose to Micah,” she says. “The little American? With the thick glasses?” “Not so little anymore.” “Interesting.” Baz rubs his chin. “My mother hung the moon.” “She was a legend,” Penelope beams. “I thought your parents hated the Pitches,” I say. They both look at me like I’ve just stuck my hand in the soup bowl. “That’s politics,” Penelope says. “We’re talking about magic.” “Obviously,” I say. “What was I thinking.” “Obviously,” Baz says. “You weren’t.” “What’s happening right now?” I say. “What are we even doing?” Penelope folds her arms and squints at the chalkboard. “We,” she declares, “are finding out who killed Natasha Grimm-Pitch.” “The legend,” Baz says. Penelope gives him a soft look, the kind she usually saves for me. “So she can rest in peace.

There are going to be times in life when no matter how hard or what we try, we’ll never get back what it was we’ve lost. All we can do is pick up the pieces we have left. To move ahead, to carry on. We just have to try.

The whole prophecy is bollocks," I say. "'And one will come to end us. And one will bring his fall.' Did I also bring my own fall?" "No," Baz says. "That was me. Obviously." "How did you bring my fall? I stopped the Humdrum myself." Baz looks back at his phone, bored. "Fell in love, didn't you?

The way you were before… Simon Snow, there wasn’t a day when I believed we’d both live through it.“ “Though what?” “Life. You were the sun, and I was crashing into you. I’d wake up every morning and think, ‘This will end in flames.

There are pages ripped out and taped all over one wall. (Not taped - stuck to the wall with spells.) (And this is exactly the sort of thing I'm sick of. Like, just use some tape. Why come up with a spell for sticking paper to the wall? Tape. Exists.)

Thus ended the first and adventurous part of his existence. What followed was so different that, but for the reality of sorrow which remained with him, this strange part must have resembled a dream.

They can stop a river by building a dam, but I will be damned if they can stop my river of blood flowing through my veins and heart.

What do you want from me, Snow?" "Nothing," he says. And he means it, the actual bastard.

Until then we must carry on and have courage.

We're cool and mysterious and better-looking than any couple has a right to be.

To cop-out, is not a way to cope.

You can’t sit on my bed,” I say as he sits on my bed. “And neither can Bunce. My bed reeks of intensity and brownies.

When I open the door, Baz is wheeling an old-fashioned chalkboard in front of our beds. “Where did that come from?” I ask. “A classroom.” “Yeah, but how did it get up here?” “It flew.” “No,” I say, “seriously.” He rolls his eyes. “I Up, up and away-ed it. It wasn’t much work.” “Why?” “Because we’re solving a mystery, Snow. I like to organize my thoughts.” “Is this how you normally plot my downfall?” “Yes. With multicoloured pieces of chalk. Stop complaining.” He opens up his book bag and takes out a few apples and things wrapped in greaseproof paper. “Eat,” he says, throwing one at me. It’s a bacon roll. He’s also got a pot of tea. “What’s all this?” I say. “Tea, obviously. I know you can’t function unless you’re stuffing yourself.” I unwrap the roll and decide to take a bite. “Thanks.” “Don’t thank me,” he says. “It sounds wrong.” “Not as wrong as you bringing me bacon butties.” “Fine, you’re welcome—when’s Bunce getting here?” “Why would she?” “Because you do everything together, don’t you? When you said you’d help, I was counting on you bringing your smarter half.

Your emotional state has a tremendous amount to do with sickness, health and well-being. For years, my husband and I lived on -- and because of -- hope. Hope continues to give me the mental strength to carry on.

You did not come this far, just to come this far.

You need to cool down first.” “I’m cool.” “Simon. You’re never cool.” “That hurts, Penny.” “It shouldn’t. It’s one of the reasons I love you.

You were the sun, and I was crashing into you.

At Watford, Magic is just the air we breathe. It's not what separates us from each other; it's what keeps us together.

And I’m hopelessly in love with him.

Agatha’s mum gives me nice clothes for Christmas, and her dad talks to me about my future like I’m not going to die in a ball of fire.

And her mother says I’m handsome. That’s really all her mum ever says to me. “Don’t you look handsome, Simon.” What would she say to Baz? “Don’t you look handsome, Basil. Please don’t slaughter my family with your hideous fangs.

And sometimes holes want to get bigger, but Baz was wrong—sometimes they just want to be filled.

A smile will go the mile, while a frown will take you down.

Does it have to be fatal every time? The biting? Couldn't you just drink some of a person's blood, then walk away?" "I can't believe you're asking me this, Snow. You, who can't walk away from half a sandwich.

Being with you is like clinging to a sinking raft instead of learning how to swim

But—I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to carry on. As I am.

Beyond the picket fences and the oil wells, the happy endings, and the fairy tales, is the reality of shattered lives and broken dreams. We carry on.

Enough, Snow, I'm not the Queen.