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“Murder? You mean he's dead?"
"No. He's resting comfortably," I said. "People always sleep best with their heads at a ninety-degree angle. He looks comfortable, doesn't he?"
(Paige & Elena)”
― Kelley Armstrong, Stolen

“When I glanced at the chair, it started to shake. I’d like to think it was scared of me, but I rarely invoked that response in living things, let alone inanimate objects. ”
― Kelley Armstrong, Stolen

“I made it," you said, gruffly, "for you."

You shoved it onto my finger. It was roughly carved, shaped from a lump of something colourful and cold...a ring made entirely from a gemstone. It was beautiful. It glinted emerald greens and blood reds over my skin, and had tiny flecks of gold catching the light. I couldn't stop staring at it.

"Why?" I asked.

You didn't answer that. Instead you touched the ring gently and looked piercingly at me, unsaid questions in your eyes.”
― Lucy Christopher, Stolen

“Where are you going?" I asked.
"The middle of nowhere."
"I thought this was it."
"Nah." You shook your head. "This is just the edge.”
― Lucy Christopher, Stolen

“Stolen momentsâ€� create a feeling of enjoyment in our “intensive timeâ€� awareness. The glow and the intensity of those instants can guide us throughout a whole lifetime. They can expose a second or a third dimension of the daily events and shed an expounding light on all the little details we encounter. ("Stolen moments" )”
― Erik Pevernagie

“I’d never seen a man cry before, only on TV. I’d never even seen Dad close to crying. Those tears looked so odd on you. It was like the strength of you just seemed to sap away. The surprise of it stopped me from being so scared.”
― Lucy Christopher, Stolen

“You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.”
― Lucy Christopher

“Just because you have stolen someone's heart, luckily owned and occupied as a home, doesn't give you the audacity to enforce hurtful policies.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“Children, language, lands: almost everything was stripped away, stolen when you weren’t looking because you were trying to stay alive. In the face of such loss, one thing our people could not surrender was the meaning of land. In the settler mind, land was property, real estate, capital, or natural resources. But to our people, it was everything: identity, the connection to our ancestors, the home of our nonhuman kinfolk, our pharmacy, our library, the source of all that sustained us. Our lands were where our responsibility to the world was enacted, sacred ground. It belonged to itself; it was a gift, not a commodity, so it could never be bought or sold. These are the meanings people took with them when they were forced from their ancient homelands to new places.”
― Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants

“This time I read the title of the painting: Girl Interrupted at Her Music. Interrupted at her music: as my life had been, interrupted in the music of being seventeen, as her life had been, snatched and fixed on canvas: one moment made to stand still and to stand for all the other moments, whatever they would be or might have been. What life can recover from that?”
― Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted

“I'm sorry, I'm still stuck on you losing your head.â€�
“I didn't lose it. It was stolen.”
― Derek Landy, Skulduggery Pleasant

“I walked into school and saw this kid wearing the same shirt that I had. I looked at him and said,"You stole my shirt!" I got in his face about it to the point where he started crying, but I was convinced he stole it! I remember and go, "Why was I so angry about that?" Even now when Kevin or Joe has taken one of my shirts I think back and laugh!”
― Nick Jonas

“The darkness might hide things really well, but it doesn’t have the power to make them disappear. And when it comes to our dreams, we might want to remember that.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“Our story never fitted nicely into police terminology and courtroom procedure, and nobody ever listened hard enough to understand what any of it was really like. It took me years to see it, but as Rhiannon always tells me, I was a girl who survived something traumatic, survived your coercive control. And I did it through love.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“...if you had only been good. But maybe you were. Is it possible the judge and the newspapers and my parents were wrong? Maybe you were the best thing that ever happened to me-how would I ever know?”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“You are beautiful and terrifying, and I can´t look away. Something pulls behind my ribs, a longing. But for what?
Closure?
You?
For you to be out of my head?
But if you leave, what´s left?”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“I look at one photograph of you leaving the courtroom, hands cuffed but eyes fierce and clear. Your hair had been cut by then, slicked back. You were wearing a shirt with a loose tie. You could have been an Australian poster boy, a surfer, a stalker.
I miss you.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“This feeling I have... this longing... I don´t want anyone else to know, even her. Especially her. Even now, I want you all to myself.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“And you know the cruellest thing? After you´d made me love you more than any of them, you went away anyway. Or they took you away. But you know, Ty, on that final day, I was coming around to what you wanted. I might´ve even stayed with you forever, like you asked for. Does it kill you to know that? That on that day you finally took me to a town and left me at those hospital doors, I felt like an orphan for adoption. A nobody. You were covered in sand and smiling, and I left you to be arrested.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“Because this time, you saw me waiting: you found me. And I saw you, too.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“You always said that the only art worth anything was made directly from the land, about the land-was the land. You´d never paint a woman who wasn´t me onto your skin.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“My fingers fasten around the knife again. "You should be the one thanking me."
And he should be, for allowing him to be anything like you.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“If I erase you from my life, what´s left inside? What parts of me remain that are mine alone?”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“Will I spend my whole life trying to let go of you? Will there never be a time that´s free from you? I bend down and gather sticks, leaves and berries, shaping them into a wreath in the snow, imagining it glowing with candles. I write your name in the centre.
Ty.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“Does he want to save me, tip me back from the edge? Or is it simply that, if he can´t understand me, he can´t control me? What is it with men always needing control? He´s not in control of me, and he hated it.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“But why do I care about him? He doesn´t see me like you did; he doesn´t care about me. But he is right about one thing: there is something missing.
You took it.
I want it back.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“Perhaps my memory of your arid home-of you, even- is also like a painting: a constructed landscape, a vision, but not the real thing. My vision.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“I guess there´s no such thing as a true vision; everything is always just a scape.”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“You´re close now, days away. I feel you in my blood, making my pulse race. Now I can´t imagine a version of my life in which I don´t make up this trip: I´d only ever find a way to return. And why shouldn´t I let you in properly after all this time?”
― Lucy Christopher, Release

“Maybe you were the best thing that ever happened to me-how would I ever know?”
― Lucy Christopher, Release