Teen Fiction Quotes

A book can take you to another land, even if just for a few hours. --Cat Spydell

Hold still, Meg, you’re dripping blood on my car seats.”I reached behind the passenger seat of Tennyson’s car looking for the white sheet she’d thrown in for mopping up bodily fluids. Quinn, sitting in the back seat, read my mind and handed it to me. “Thank you.”“No problem.” He leaned forward, pulling a corner of the sheet up to wipe off a small stream of blood on my neck. “You okay?

Then let me be your mercy,” he said. “I’ll never be able to give you smart answers about why we suffer, but I can come into your world and try to be some kind of help to you.

Thanet is having a moment,” I said, leaning forward so Quinn could see him.“What’s wrong, man?” Quinn said. “Were you not aware high school dances suck? That they always have sucked and they will continue sucking as long as the world turns?

The throbbing shimmy spread through my hips and thighs. I could have sworn my body started to glow as if light were shooting from my fingertips and each strand of hair.

The hours tick by as I lie in bed.Memories keep surfacing, tormenting me into unbelievable sadness. I can't bring myself to move. I can't fight the memories that keep filling my thoughts. I stay curled in the fetal position as each memory plays out. I can't stop them from coming. I can't make them go away. Nothing can distract me. I can't block the memories, so they continue to come.

If you don't beleve in yourself, who will?' ~Maybeck

Every moment of our lives we make choices. Most we don’t even know we’re making, they’re so dull or routine or automatic. Some are beyond explanation—like my mom choosing Wyatt’s memory over Dad and me.

No offense, doll, but that’s not something I’m willing to share. I’d prefer to live a long and happy life if it’s all the same to you.”“You can’t just throw out vague allegations and then say nothing else!”“See, that’s the good thing about being a fugitive like me. I can do what the hell I like, and I’m not answerable to anyone.” Stepping away from the bars, he stands with his legs stretched out wide. His stance matches his grin.“Sure looks like that’s working out well for you,” I say, piercing him with a scornful look.

She wasn't his girlfriend. She was his bubblegum girl--only fun until she lost her flavor.

I pretended to be a Cheyenne guide. I pretended to be a prairie woman. I pretended Henry was my old-timey husband taking me to our new homestead. I leaned down and patted Trouble’s neck. “Good boy,” I said. “Trusty steed.

Shunting closer, I snuggle into his chest, soaking up his fresh woodsy scent. His arms encircle me and pull me close. “You always smell like home,” I whisper under my breath. Smooth, soft fingers tilt my chin upward, and I’m startled when my face meets his. Tears glisten in his eyes as he looks at me adoringly. Pressing his forehead to mine, he kisses me sweetly, his lips making brisk tantalizing sweeps across my mouth.“My heart is your home,” he whispers, his voice breathless. “It always will be.

If he looks at me like that again Dottie will need a bucket and mop to get me back to my room.

Who cares about fault? As my dad would say, ‘Blame is like your rear-end and reflection. Seeing either always leaves you looking back.’ I’m more worried about what’s in front of me. And right now . . . the view is all messed up.” ~ Ellia

She actually isn't so bad, now that I'm getting to know her. She's just a little messy on the outside. But aren't we all?

They were full of suspicion and wonder, which I had grown to recognize as two very dangerous things.

We all think when we’re young that we want excitement and highs and passion. To hell with ordinary.”I smiled and she chuckled. “But when we find ourselves in these adult bodies,” she said. “When we wise up a little, or get slapped in the face by life, we realize we just want all things to be equal.” She put the heels of her hands together near her heart like the Yoga prayer position. “And we want to understand them better.

I grab the nearest lamppost when my knees threaten to give out, panting for breath as the words rip through me

My mind screams for me to run, but my feet are planted where they are. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. There’s no way this is real!

On the best nights, he’d appear outside the bookstore window and wait for me to unlock the door. He usually hadn’t had time to shower between doing things with cattle and horses and coming to find me, and he looked older than us and stronger than us.

You’re kidding, right? The whole town will know where we are just by the idle on that thing.”He feigned a look of shock. “That thing is a 1966 GTO. It has a name, okay? It’s Mack—as in ‘to mack on women.’ I rebuilt it last year, and I was told the engine makes girls hot.”“Someone actually used those words? Is it true?”“TBD,” he said.“You’re goofy. Let’s ride in my Jeep. Its name is Jeep.” Quinn chuckled. “Kavanagh has a smart mouth.

Magic is all about words and believing. If you believe then anything is possible.

Mending a broken heart isn't easy. It's messy and complicated, but when it's finished, it's stronger than ever.

Your dad and I have been talking.”“You need to stop that. The marriage will last longer.

I take small, shallow breaths, even though my lungs are begging for more air. I feel the heat of Ten’s controlled breaths against my face. As we stand there, it feels as if an electric charge is growing between us, so powerful that it would shock us if we moved even a millimeter closer together. And yet I feel like I want to.

We're enveloped in pitch black. "Wait here," I whisper."Are you getting your ax?""Handcuffs.""Kinky. But, okay, I'll try it.

I recognized Meg’s swirly handwriting and crooked my index finger into the side of the envelope to rip it open. There was no letter. Just a picture. A picture of Meg holding a picture of me. The word HOME echoed through my body like a rifle shot.

Here was what I wanted to happen when I walked through the door after my first real date and my first ever kiss. I wanted my mom to say, “Dear God, Meg, you’re glowing. Sit and tell me about this boy. He let you borrow his jacket? That’s so adorable.” Instead, I came off the high of that day by writing a letter to my dead brother and doing yoga between my twin beds, trying to forget my absent mother.

Prove to me that you deserved it.

I snatched my gaze away from hers and tugged at the collar of my shirt. I wanted to know how she could talk with such authority on the subject. I wanted to know what evil she’d seen, but I wanted even more to escape the narrow store aisle. Warning bells pealed in my brain. 'She’s crazy. Don’t get involved.