欧宝娱乐

“Holding people away from you, and denying yourself love, that doesn't make you strong. if anything, it makes you weaker. Because you're doing it out of fear.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“I just thought to my self, all of a sudden, that we had something in common. A natural chemistry, if you will. And I had a feeling that something big was going to happen. To both of us. That we were, in fact, meant to be together.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Love is so unpredictable. That's what makes it so great.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Remy: Did you really believe, that first day, that we were meant to be together?

Dexter: You're here, aren't you?”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“I meant what I said to you. I wasn't playing some kind of summer game. Everything I said was true, from the first day. EVERY GODDAMN WORD.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Are those the only options? Nothing or forever?”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“If what you're asking is how I debated whether or not to love her the answer is I didn't. Not at all. It just happened. I didn't ever question it; by the time I realized what was happening, it was already done.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“But you, fine sir." John Miller clapped Dexter on the shoulder, a bit unsteadily. "You have problems of your own."
"This is true," Dexter replied, nodding.
"The women," John Miller sighed.
Dexter wiped a hand over his face, and glanced down the road. "The women. Indeed, dear squire, they perplex me as well."
"Ah, the fair Remy," John Miller said grandly, and I felt a flush run up my face. Lissa, in the front seat, put a hand to her mouth.
"The fair Remy," Dexter repeated, "did not see me as a worthwhile risk."
"Indeed."
"I am, of course, a rogue. A rapscallion. A musician. I would bring her nothing but poverty, shame, and bruised shins from my flailing limbs. She is the better for our parting."
John Miller pantomined stabbing himself in the heart. "Cold words, my squire."
"Huffah," Dexter agreed.
"Huffah," John Miller repeated, "Indeed.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Don't you give me no rotten tomato," Dexter sang, "just 'cause to your crazy shit I
cannot relate-o.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Oh, God," I said.
"No, it's Dexter," he replied, offering me his hand, which I ignored.
He glanced behind him, then back at me. "I'll see you soon," he said, and grinned at
me.
"Like hell," I replied,”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“It doesn't matter, anyway, why you like me. Just that you do.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“I thought this was a cookout. You know, dogs and burgers, Tater Tots, ambrosia salad" Dexter picked up a box of Twinkies, tossing them into the cart. "And Twinkies."
"It is,"..."Except that it's a cookout thrown by my mother."
"And?"
"And my mother doesn't cook."
He looked at me waiting.
"At all. My mother doesn't cook at all."
"She must cook sometimes."
"Nope."
"Everyone can make scrambled eggs, Remy. It's programmed into you at birth, the default setting. Like being able to swim and knowing not to mix pickles with oatmeal. You just KNOW.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“See," he began, leaning back into the booth, "I was at this car dealership today, and I
saw this girl. It was an across-a-crowded-room kind of thing. A real moment, you know?"
I rolled my eyes. Chloe said, "And this would be Remy?"
"Right. Remy," he said, repeating my name with a smile. Then, as if we were happy
honeymooners
recounting our story for strangers he added, "Do you want to tell the next part?"
"No," I said flatly.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“I bet you can't eat ten bananas!"
"I bet you're right.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“What the hell," I said, pushing off the wall, ready to take off the head of whatever stupid salesperson had decided to get cozy with me. My elbow was still buzzing, and I could feel a hot flush creeping up my neck: bad signs. I knew my temper.
I turned my head and saw it wasn't a salesman at all. It was a guy with black curly hair, around my age, wearing a bright orange T-shirt. And for some reason he was smiling.
"Hey there," he said cheerfully. "How's it going?"
"What is your problem?" I snapped, rubbing my elbow.
"Problem?"
"You just slammed me into the wall, asshole."
He blinked. "Goodness," he said finally. "Such language."
I just looked at him. Wrong day, buddy, I thought. You caught me on the wrong day.
"The thing is," he said, as if we'd been discussing the weather or world politics, "I saw you out in the showroom. I was over by the tire display?"
I was sure I was glaring at him. But he kept talking.
"I just thought to myself, all of a sudden, that we had something in common. A natural chemistry, if you will. And I had a feeling that something big was going to happen. To both of us. That we were, in fact, meant to be together."
"You got all this," I said, clarifying, "at the tire display?"
"You didn't feel it?" he asked.
"No. I did, however, feel you slamming me into the wall," I said evenly.
"That," he said, lowering his voice and leaning closer to me, "was an accident. An oversight. Just an unfortunate result of the enthusiasm I felt knowing I was about to talk to you.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Huffah!”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Love is an excuse to put up with shit that you shouldn't”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“You bought me some forks. And knives. And spoons. Because you love me!”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“The fate of your heart is your choice and no one else gets a vote”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“There was only so much space between us, not even a real distance if measured in miles or feet or even inches, all the things that told you how far you'd come or had left to go. But it was a big space, if only for me. And as I moved forward to him covering it, he waited there on the other side. It was only the last little bit I has to go, but in the end, I knew it would be all I would truly remember. So as I kissed him, bringing this summer and everything else full circle, I let myself fall, and was not scared of the ground I knew would rise up to meet me.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Don't give me no rotten tomato, 'cause all I ever wanted was your sweet potato.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

“Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
― Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

“Boys turns girls into such idiots.”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

“For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

“Why is it that the right people never wind up together? Why are people so afraid to leave a relationship, even if they know it's a bad one?”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

“Girl scouts didn't teach me what to do with emotionally unstable drunk boys.”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

“Most people in Atlanta don't have an accent. It's pretty urban. A lot of people speak gangsta, though," I add jokingly.
"Fo' shiz," he replies in his polite English accent.
I spurt orangey-red soup across the table. St. Clair gives a surprised ha-HA kind of laugh, and I'm laughing too, the painful kind like abdominal crunches. He hands me a napkin to wipe my chin. "Fo'. Shiz." He repeats it solemnly.
Cough cough. "Please don't ever stop saying that. It's too-" I gasp. "Much."
"You oughtn't to have said that. Now I shall have to save it for special occasions."
"My birthday is in February." Cough choke wheeze. "Please don't forget.”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

“I don't want to feel this way around him. I want things to be normal. I want to be his friend, not another stupid girl holding out for something that will never happen.”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

“Har. Bloody. Har."
He smiles. "Oh, I see. Known me less than a day and teasing me about my accent. What's next? Care to discuss the state of my hair? My height? My trousers?"
Trousers. Honestly.”
― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss