She smells like marijuana smoke. It’s not a bad smell. Just a sad one.
Prayer or not, I want to believe that, despite all evidence to the contrary, it is possible for anyone to find that special person. That person to spend Christmas with or grow old with or just take a...
No. No no no no. It is not easy. Things that matter are not easy. Feelings of happiness are easy. Happiness is not. Flirting is easy. Love is not. Saying you're friends is easy. Being friends is not.
No. I can’t change. I shouldn’t change.
My heart literally aches, that shit is not made up.
My hands were starting to shake a little. Because I hadn’t known that I knew these things. Just having a notebook to write them in, and having someone to write them to, made them all rise to the surfa...
It’s definitely worth something, I said. A lot. We still don’t know each other, right? And I’ll admit—I thought it might be best if we kept it all to the page, passed that notebook back and forth unti...
It's moments like this, when you need someone the most, that your world seems smallest.I'm told there's no going back. So I’m choosing forwardThe exhaustion of living was just too much for me to talk...
It's a total lie to say there's only one person you're going to be with for the rest of your life. If you're lucky - and if you try really hard - there will always be more than one.
It was Chaos on Glitter Ice. A massacre of librarians.
It seemed weird to me that he’d spent his Christmas alone … and had seemed to like it. He hadn’t seemed to think anyone should feel sorry for him about that, either.
I'm not that girl who randomly meets a guy one night and has her life change. I wear cords and flannel shirts. I don't have the killer body like Tris or Caroline. Sometimes I don't wash my hair for th...
I was attempting to write the story of my life. It wasn't so much about plot. It was much more about character.
I wanted to like her and I wanted her to like me and that was more want than I had saddled myself with in many a moon.
I wanted to go home to the safety of my bed and to my stuffed animals and to my people I’d known my whole life. I had nothing to say to anybody, and fervently prayed that no one there would have anyth...
I thought about the bigger picture of my life, and about the people—and particularly the guys—I would encounter during my lifetime. How would I ever know when that moment was right, when expectation m...
I suspected that what happens in hotel rooms rarely lasts outside of them. I suspected that when something was a beginning and an ending at the same time, that meant it could only exist in the present...
I started to write: Langston deserves to be sick. But I erased that and wrote, Okay. I’ll make him some.
I move my feet, turn away from her, try to pretend she's not there, which is the biggest fucking joke I've ever not laughed at.
I mean, I think I am basically a cool girl, but I am also a pain in the ass.