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“What is more teen girl than not being loved, but wanting it so badly that you accept the smallest crumb and call yourself full?”
― Olivia Gatwood, Life of the Party

“I flick my eyes to the spot on her shoulder where her freckles match the constellations in the sky, and I smile. I get lost in her skin, sipping my drink and mapping the stars on her arm while everyone else talks and eats and laughs around me.”
― Jennifer Dugan, Hot Dog Girl

“I’m officially giving myself permission to ask; What are Mr. Garcia’s intentions? Maybe I’m late to the game on this question. The thing is, I’ve seen myself in the mirror. Why would I suspect anyone of wanting this?”
― Michael Benzehabe, Zonked Out: The Teen Psychologist of San Marcos Who Killed Her Santa Claus and Found the Blue-Black Edge of the Love Universe

“At first, I was scared to be alone. No routines. No rules. Just me. But I think..." Taylor wiped a tear away. "I think I was always in the jungle. Before. It was always there. I think I had to come out here to find the answer."

"And what did you find?"

"I love myself. They make it so hard for us to love ourselves." Taylor stared off into the dark. Her face gleamed with tears. Snot ran over her lips. "The judges won't like that answer."

"Nobody's judging you."

Taylor choked on a sob. "Always," she whispered.”
― Libba Bray, Beauty Queens

“There's nothing more terrifying than a teenage girl”
― Chris Colfer

“I'm not really sure what I am at all anymore."

"We're not just sashes and states," Nicole said on a sigh.

"Or gender," Petra murmured. "Or bodies."

"I'm sort of everything all at once," Nicole whispered.

And then they were silent, lost to dreaming.”
― Libba Bray

“Refrain (by Jan Warren)

Pick up your clothes, make your bed, is that a basket of ironing stuffed into your closet? How can you find anything in there? Clean it out, you´re not going to the park until it's done and I want you to take your sister with you, don't give me that look, just wait until your father comes home; I've never seen such a lazy kid, how did I ever get lucky enough to have you to deal with, you've got a chip on your shoulder; no, you can´t spend the night, because I said so, straighten that bedspread; wake up, you´ll be late for school, come right home after, I need you to go to the store and don't take forever, dinner has to be sometime tonight; set the table, make the salad, clean out the wastepaper basket, feed the dogs, sweep the floor, don't let the flies in, close that door, do you think money grows on trees, don't give me that look, just wait till your father gets home; who was that on the phone, why is he calling here? don´t talk to strangers, who was that walking with you, you better not have them hanging around, because I said so, you're too young, he's a boy, that's different, because I said so, that skirt is too short, take off that makeup, you look like a hussy in those fishnet stockings, where did you get that, you'll have to take it back, don't give me that look, just wait till your father gets home; the store called me today--you've taken practically nude pictures, you better stop or I'll tell your father, you're getting too big for your britches young lady, nice girls don't do things like that, keep going and you'll see what happens... don't give me that look...”
― Hettie Jones, Aliens at the Border: the Writing Workshop, Bedford Hills Correctional Facility