When I read, I feel emotion all on my own. Emotion no living person is making me feel.
“Is that your subtle way of saying you missed me last week?"
"I've missed my hot chocolate. I just think of you as the guy who brings it to me. Sometimes I forget your name and call you hot chocolate guy.”
I don't care when people think I'm an antisocial, controlling bookworm because that's what I am. It's when they interpret me wrong that I have a problem.
His eyes are so intense I want to look away . . . or never look away, I can’t decide.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“Don’t push me.”
“I love you, too,” he says. He puts his cheek against mine. “So much.”
“Caymen?”
“Yes?”
“You look terrified. Does this scare you?”
“More than anything.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t bring my mints.”
“And now the real answer . . .”
“Because I’m afraid that once you catch me, the game’s over.”
Sometimes it's the little things that bring that special someone back to us in some small way.
A lot of people don’t get my humor. My mom calls it dry humor. I think that means “not funny,” but it also means I’m the only one who ever knows it’s a joke.”
I wonder why some people seem to be born knowing what they want to do with their lives and others - mostly me - have no idea.
Sometimes it's hard for me to start something because I'd rather not try at all than fail at it.
Feelings can be the most costly thing in the universe.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Myself.”
“You do that a lot.”
“I know. I’m the only one who understands me.”
Sometimes we expect more that people are capable of giving at the moment.
We rarely find a depth by looking inside of ourselves for it. Depth is found in what we can learn from the people and things around us. Everyone, everything, has a story, Gia. When you learn those stories, you learn experiences that fill you up, that expand your understanding. You add layers to your soul.
“My bookcase is all yours."
I walked to the door. "I've just decided that those are my favorite five words in the world.”
Because an illusion is an illusion. Reality always exists despite the facade.
Just promise me something. If this is a Search and you don't pick me, don't pick this path, for whatever reason, promise me you won't Erase me.
Sometimes I feel like I'm slowly floating away. I'm constantly looking for something to grab on to so I don't lose myself.
We can't let boys define how we feel about ourselves. You have to know who you are before you should let any boy worth anything in.
I think unhappiness comes from unfulfilled expectations.
Hi, I’m stranger one and this is stranger two. Are you uncomfortable yet?
You’re my favorite way to pass the time. But time stands still when you’re on my mind.
“I slide my feet onto the seat next to him, my ankle brushing against his thigh. “No shallowness of breath? No rapidly beating heart?”
He rests one hand on my foot as he continues to mess with his phone. His eyes meet mine in amusement. “Are those the indicators? I might have an issue after all.”
“Your eyelashes make mine want to commit suicide from shame.”
“I don't like the words 'I'm fine'. My mom tells me those two words are the most-frequently-told lie in the English lenguage.”
“He shrugs. "Doesn't help to waste my time thinking about would've-beens."
Laila whispers, "He says to the girl with a mind full of them.”
“Chin up. There are other fish in the sea. It's a big ocean. Sometimes we need to catch and release a few before we find the keeper.”
“Note to self: Caymen is very good at sarcasm.”
“If you’re recording notes for an official record, I’d like the word ‘very’ stricken and replaced with ‘exceptionally.”
“Do you ever feel like you do something or are something for so long that it defines you?”
“I turn my head so that he doesn't see my smile and secretly curse him for making me feel special.”
“Silence is kind of awkward, don’t you think?” he said.
Oh. Or not. “No. I’m okay with silence. We’re in a library after all. This is the birthplace of silence.”
“The library is the birthplace of silence?” David asked.
“All the words are being used by the books. When I was little, that’s what I used to think. That people were told to be quiet so that all their words didn’t get stolen by the books. I thought books needed words to exist. Well, obviously they do, but I thought they needed spoken words. Yeah … I was always weird.”
“And here I thought libraries were quiet because people were trying to study,” David whispered.
“That might be another explanation.”
“Is that your subtle way of saying you missed me last week?"
"I've missed my hot chocolate. I just think of you as the guy who brings it to me. Sometimes I forget your name and call you hot chocolate guy.”
I don't care when people think I'm an antisocial, controlling bookworm because that's what I am. It's when they interpret me wrong that I have a problem.
His eyes are so intense I want to look away . . . or never look away, I can’t decide.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“Don’t push me.”
“I love you, too,” he says. He puts his cheek against mine. “So much.”
“Caymen?”
“Yes?”
“You look terrified. Does this scare you?”
“More than anything.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t bring my mints.”
“And now the real answer . . .”
“Because I’m afraid that once you catch me, the game’s over.”
Sometimes it's the little things that bring that special someone back to us in some small way.
A lot of people don’t get my humor. My mom calls it dry humor. I think that means “not funny,” but it also means I’m the only one who ever knows it’s a joke.”
I wonder why some people seem to be born knowing what they want to do with their lives and others - mostly me - have no idea.
Sometimes it's hard for me to start something because I'd rather not try at all than fail at it.
Feelings can be the most costly thing in the universe.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Myself.”
“You do that a lot.”
“I know. I’m the only one who understands me.”
Sometimes we expect more that people are capable of giving at the moment.
We rarely find a depth by looking inside of ourselves for it. Depth is found in what we can learn from the people and things around us. Everyone, everything, has a story, Gia. When you learn those stories, you learn experiences that fill you up, that expand your understanding. You add layers to your soul.
“My bookcase is all yours."
I walked to the door. "I've just decided that those are my favorite five words in the world.”
Because an illusion is an illusion. Reality always exists despite the facade.
Just promise me something. If this is a Search and you don't pick me, don't pick this path, for whatever reason, promise me you won't Erase me.
Sometimes I feel like I'm slowly floating away. I'm constantly looking for something to grab on to so I don't lose myself.
We can't let boys define how we feel about ourselves. You have to know who you are before you should let any boy worth anything in.
I think unhappiness comes from unfulfilled expectations.
Hi, I’m stranger one and this is stranger two. Are you uncomfortable yet?
You’re my favorite way to pass the time. But time stands still when you’re on my mind.
“I slide my feet onto the seat next to him, my ankle brushing against his thigh. “No shallowness of breath? No rapidly beating heart?”
He rests one hand on my foot as he continues to mess with his phone. His eyes meet mine in amusement. “Are those the indicators? I might have an issue after all.”
“Your eyelashes make mine want to commit suicide from shame.”
“I don't like the words 'I'm fine'. My mom tells me those two words are the most-frequently-told lie in the English lenguage.”
“He shrugs. "Doesn't help to waste my time thinking about would've-beens."
Laila whispers, "He says to the girl with a mind full of them.”
“Chin up. There are other fish in the sea. It's a big ocean. Sometimes we need to catch and release a few before we find the keeper.”
“Note to self: Caymen is very good at sarcasm.”
“If you’re recording notes for an official record, I’d like the word ‘very’ stricken and replaced with ‘exceptionally.”
“Do you ever feel like you do something or are something for so long that it defines you?”
“I turn my head so that he doesn't see my smile and secretly curse him for making me feel special.”
“Silence is kind of awkward, don’t you think?” he said.
Oh. Or not. “No. I’m okay with silence. We’re in a library after all. This is the birthplace of silence.”
“The library is the birthplace of silence?” David asked.
“All the words are being used by the books. When I was little, that’s what I used to think. That people were told to be quiet so that all their words didn’t get stolen by the books. I thought books needed words to exist. Well, obviously they do, but I thought they needed spoken words. Yeah … I was always weird.”
“And here I thought libraries were quiet because people were trying to study,” David whispered.
“That might be another explanation.”
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