Good bye AEHS. You suck. I hate you. And yet... Somehow I’ll miss you too.
I whirled around. “It wasn’t just a kiss,” I said. I was getting really mad. “Maybe that’s how you wanted it to look, like it was just a kiss. But you and I both know what it really was: A media event. And one that you’ve been planning since you saw me in the Post. Well, thank you, Josh, but I can get my own publicity. I don’t need you.
You gazed into my eyes, what could I do but linger? I ran my hand through your hair, and a cootie bit my finger.
I think my teacher was wrong: making cheese wasn’t what I was born to do. I was born to make people feel good when everything around them seemed just awful.
Meena wasn’t sure which she found more disturbing: that she’d been hunting her ex-boyfriend’s murderous wife with a hair dryer beneath the streets of Manhattan, or that when she opened her eyes after having been knocked unconscious by this person, she realized she’d been rescued by another one of her ex-boyfriends.
Oh my God, I am such a liar. And I can’t even leave it at just one lie, either. Oh, no. I have to pile it on. I am sick, I tell you. Sick.
Plus, I have two television sets. How many does Cal have? Oh, that’d be none. I asked. Yeah, Cal doesn’t “believe” in TV. Right. You know what I don’t believe in? People who don’t believe in TV.
What?” That’s when I knew how wrong I’d been.
They could be making her sleep in a closet under the stairs!
I know it’s probably wrong to fantasize about giving a nun a karate chop in the neck, but I couldn’t help it. She was making me mad.
My life is a convoluted web of lies.
And if you write something that cheers someone up when they’re feeling down, doesn’t that change the world?
Lars watches Pretty Little Liars.
Maybe this is how wars get started, because someone tells someone else to shut up, and then no one will apologize.
You can learn a lot from letting other people talk, and just listening to what they have to say.
You don’t have to shout, sweetie. I can read you just fine in lower-case letters.
After more than one hundred and fifty years of living alone in the darkness, I met you, Susannah, and through you, I met Father Dominic. Everything my mother said in her letter came true. It wasn’t the same church, and it wasn’t the same priest. But the letter and the ring were there, all because of you. And now I want to give that ring to you.
No man wants to marry, Finnula. There are just some women they can’t have any other way, and so it is a sacrifice willingly made in order to attain a particularly choice –.
All it took was one man, just one, to declare that something was not right, and others would follow.
Who plans on falling in love? It simply happens. We cannot stop it, however much we might try.