I love the way you look when reading a book—content and dreamy, off in another world.
I don’t think we should ever try to meet again; there’s such freedom in that. Instead, let our words continue to meet. (See next postcard.)
I always hoped that after the prince found Cinderella and they rode away in their magnificent carriage, after a few miles she turned to him and said, Could you drop me off down the road please? Now th...
How come princesses always have some huge flaw that can cause their downfall?
His absence is time gained to spool my un-truths.
Fuck Tris. I would give body parts to have a guy write something like that for me. My kidney? Oh, both of them? Here, Nick, they’re yours—just write more for me. I’ll give you a start: boy in punk clu...
Don’t do it for the sake of doing it, but don’t wait for a fantasy, either.
But whether or not you are here, you are here—because these words are for you, and they wouldn’t exist if you weren’t here in some way. This notebook is a strange instrument—the player doesn’t know th...
Be careful what you’re doing, because no one is ever who you want them to be. And the less you really know them, the more likely you are to confuse them with the girl or boy in your head
I want to believe there is a somebody out there just for me. I want to believe that I exist to be there for that somebody.
I understand why Laura did what she did. I think I'm supposed to be mad at her, but I'm not. I admire her courage. She saw what the world had to offer and said, No thank you. She saw the lies and hypo...
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 made the mistake of turning back to look at her one last time before I left the room. It was heartbreaking, really—she just sat there, stunned. She looked like she was waking up in a strange place—o...
I know in my heart that I can live without him and I know in my heart that I don't want to-that's a good place to start, right?
I didn’t want to tell Lily that I felt we’d all been duped by Plato and the idea of a soulmate. Just in case it turned out that she was mine.
Hellaciously Homely.
For sure, the last thing I was going to write to her was All I want for Christmas is you.
Books. I'd probably spend all my time alone and lost in books if I could. It's easier that way.
Answer all the questions that I'm too afraid to ask