It’s bullshit to think of friendship and romance as being different. They’re not. They’re just variations of the same love. Variations of the same desire to be close.
Well sure, who doesn’t need a boyfriend? but realistically, those exotic creatures are hard to come by. At least a quality one.
She doesn’t want the boy causing the distinction between “love” and “in love
I deciced if I were ever to get into booze and women, my line would be, ‘Excuse me, madam, but I would really love to bed and muss you. . . . Are you perchance free this evening?
All this hoping for nothing-or someone-that’s maybe hopeless
Dumped doesn’t even begin to describe it. If you’re going to use a trash metaphor, incinerated is more like it.
My brother, Langston, said, “Lily, you don’t understand because you’ve never been in love. If you had a boyfriend, you’d understand.” Langston has a new boyfriend and all I understand from that is a sorry state of co-dependence.
There’s no such thing as ready, there’s only willing.
Can we try to be wise with each other for a very long time?
Friendship is love as much as any romance. And like any love, it’s difficult and treacherous and confusing. But in the moment when your knees touch, there’s nothing else you could ever want.
Better to end this dream before it becomes a nightmare.
The mosh pit will reveal all the answers. The mosh pit never lies.-Norah, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist
[S]he leans into this guy and rocks her head like I’m making this music for her, when if I could, I would take it all away and give her as much silence as she’s given me pain.
…The important people in our lives leave imprints. They may stay or go in the physical realm, but they are always there in your heart, because they helped form your heart. There’s no getting over that.
I wanted to talk to someone. But who? It’s moments like this, when you need someone the most, that your world seems smallest.
Somewhere between a friend and acquaintance—a frequaintance, as it were.
We always see the worst in our selves. Our most volnerable selves. We need someone to get close enough to tell us that we’re wrong. Someone we trust.
I mean, like most guys, you carry around this girl in your head, who is exactly who you want her to be. The person you think you will love the most. And every girl you are with gets measured against this girl in your head.
These humans—they are cruel monsters. Liars. Deceitful. For the first time, I want to hurt them the way they hurt me. This is so unfair. My body feels numb, my energy spent, my mind deceived and angry.
When the time is right, when these feelings of rage and unfairness once again overcome me, I will not faint. I will fight.
When the rain falls you just let it fall and you grin like a madman and you dance with it, because if you can make yourself happy in the rain then you’re doing pretty alright in life.
Maybe your unspeakable defects give you power too?
Know what the best thing your true love can give you is?” I asked him.“What?” said Dash.“True love.
The humans create life, and senselessly cause death. For nothing.
We’re better off. But I don’t know if the world’s better off. I don’t know if the two are the same thing.
The handwriting was a girl’s. I mean, you can tell. That enchanted cursive.
It’s hard to show you that I tried unless you end up succeeding.
I’m liking that I can throw any kind of sentence at her without worrying it’s too out there.
What do you want ?”It was a hard question, especially if I had to bat en down the sarcasm. I mean, there was the beauty pageant answer of world peace, although I’d probably have to render it in the beauty pageant spelling of world peas.
I hope I never love someone so much that they could hurt me the way Langston was hurt.
Because I withered under the glare of an actual invitation, I was a firm believer in preventive prevarication–in other words, lying early in order to free myself later on.
There is no such thing as a soulmate…and who would want there to be? I don’t want half of a shared soul. I want my own damn so