Cynthia Hand Quotes & Sayings

As if the daytime wasn't bad enough, I dream about him. Every night for three nights in a row. I can't get out of that moment when I was in his head, feeling what he felt, hearing his thoughts as he kissed me. I can feel him loving me. And it kills me, that moment when I feel his love shift into fear — Cynthia Hand

IF SCIENCE TEACHES ANYTHING, IT TEACHES US TO ACCEPT OUR FAILURES, AS WELL AS OUR SUCCESSES, WITH QUIET DIGNITY AND GRACE. — Cynthia Hand

Fox Creek Road. Such a simple, unassuming name for this place where destiny's going to go down. Now I know the where. And the who, and the what. All I have to figure out is the when. And the why. — Cynthia Hand

Firstly, bears are always hungry. So when you encounter the bear, don't act like food."
"Huh?"
"I read it in a book last summer, called - "
G held up a hand. "Don't tell me the name! No time."
"Right. As I was saying, bears are always hungry. Try not to act like food."
"How does one act like food? — Cynthia Hand

Look closer. The river's its own world of fast and slow, deep and shallow, bright and shadowed. If you look at it like that, like a landscape where the fish live, it'll be easier to catch one. — Cynthia Hand

There's nothing more inspiring than the complexity and beauty of the human heart. — Cynthia Hand

I wonder if the prayers of angel-bloods count more than regular people's. — Cynthia Hand

Nice tree, he says.
That boy has unexpected depth. — Cynthia Hand

Come on, pretty boy," he taunts. "Show me what you've got. — Cynthia Hand

Of course, being angry is pointless. Unproductive. They don't understand yet. That they are all waiting for that one phone call that will change everything. That every one of them will feel like me eventually. Because someone they love will die. It's one of life's cruel certainties. — Cynthia Hand

You look like Euler's equation, he murmured as he looked me up and down.
Nerd translation: Euler's equation is said to be the most perfect formula ever written. Simple but elegant. Beautiful. — Cynthia Hand

Bug spray." Mosquitoes never bother me, but apparently they eat Tucker alive if he forgets bug spray. So I wear it for solidarity. "All the kids wear
it," I explain to Mom. "They say the mosquito is the Wyoming state bird. — Cynthia Hand

Oh, come on. You eye-hump him all through British History. — Cynthia Hand

Shawshank's good," he says. "But you can't beat the way Woody Harrelson kills zombies. He takes such joy in it."
"Uh-huh," I say, making a face. "I've always found zombies to be the least threatening of the scary monsters. I mean, come on. They're slow. They're brain-dead. They don't plot evil or try to take over the world. They just - " I put my arms out in front of me and give him my best zombie groan. I shake my head. "So not scary."
"But they just. Keep. Coming," Christian says. "You can run, you can kill them, but more of them always pop up, and they never stop." He shudders. "And they try to eat you, and if you get bitten, that's it - you're infected. You're doomed to become a zombie yourself. End of story."
"Okay," I concede, "they're kind of scary," and now I'm vaguely disappointed that we're not here to watch a zombie movie. — Cynthia Hand

Yes, Gracie was a fox. No, really. She was. Literally. (We know. It's too good.) The — Cynthia Hand

She'd been presented to him as the intended of Francis, the dauphin (which Edward kept thinking sounded like the word dolphin, which seemed an odd term for a prince). — Cynthia Hand

Tucker: Is it okay to kiss you?
Clara: What?
Tucker: I won't get struck by lightning?
Clara: (laughs) No lightning. — Cynthia Hand

I love you," he murmurs. "Can you feel that? You. Not some destiny I think I'm called to. You. I'm with you. My strength. My soul. My heart. Feel it. — Cynthia Hand

I meant it, what I said in hell. You're my glory sword, you know that? My truth. — Cynthia Hand

He pretended to stretch his arms, in order to shift even closer to her. (This isn't in the history books, of course, but we'd like to point out that this was the first time a young man had ever tried that particular arm-stretch move on a young woman. Edward was the inventor of the arm stretch, a tactic that teenage boys have been using for centuries.) — Cynthia Hand

On everyone's lap rested a book. Any book. In case the wedding got boring. — Cynthia Hand

Are you any good at it?"
"Pulling idiots out of the snow? I'm the best. — Cynthia Hand

Again, he thought better of this tactic.
Sweet lady, there are those of us who sleep lying down, and those of us who sleep standing up. I can do both. — Cynthia Hand

You must learn to deal with the facts. — Cynthia Hand

The corner of his mouth lifts, and then I kiss him. Not so gently this time. His hand drops from my face and grab at my waist and pull me to him. A small soft groan escapes him, and that noise makes me absolutely crazy. I lose it. I wind my hands around his neck and kiss him without holding anything back. I can feel his heart thundering like mine, his breath coming faster, his arms tightening around me. — Cynthia Hand

But Tucker is my choice. I love him. That isn't going to go away. — Cynthia Hand

His name is Christian," he calls back. "Can you believe that? We came all this way
so Clara could save a guy named Christian."
"I'm aware of the irony. — Cynthia Hand

This is going to sound trite, I suppose, but you never know when it's going to be the last time. That you hug someone. That you kiss. That you say goodbye. — Cynthia Hand

Armies aren't very good about carrying libraries with them. I can't imagine why. We'd fight so much less if everyone would juste sit down and read — Cynthia Hand

Dad scowls. "Phen." He says the name like it's a swear word. "Disgusting, cowardly creatures, the ambivalent. Worse than the fallen, in many ways." His eyes are so fierce it's a tad scary. "They have no conviction at all. — Cynthia Hand

This is it.
We're going to hell. — Cynthia Hand

What? I demand to know. "What is it now?"
"You're not going to go." he says.
"Watch me."
"I've been having a vision of this place, too." This stops me from my wild, cowardly (how can he think I'm brave?) retreat back to the road ...
"You're having a new vision, too?" I ask.
"It's right here." He walks toward me, his strides long and purposeful across the grass. "Right now. I've been seeing it for weeks, and it's happening right now."
He stops in front of me.
"This is the part where I kiss you," he says. — Cynthia Hand

I'm sorry," I choke out.
He's quiet. Tears drip off my chin. He lets out a slow, shaky breath.
"Don't cry," he says. "That's not fair."
I laugh and sob at the same time.
"It's okay," he whispers. His fingers brush at the tears on my cheeks. "Don't cry."
Then he puts his arms around me, wings and all. I curl my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest and breathe in the smell of the river on him. Somewhere in the woods a crow caws. A blackbird answers. And then we're kissing and everything goes away but Tucker. — Cynthia Hand

Can we go somewhere?" I ask. "Let's go somewhere off in the woods and I'll show you."
He hesitates, of course. What if I'm an alien invader trying to lure him to a secluded place so I can suck his brains out? Or a vampire, ravenous for his blood?
"I won't hurt you." Be not afraid.
His eyes flash with anger like I've come right out and called him a chicken.
"Okay." His jaw tightens. "But I drive."
"Of course. — Cynthia Hand

I think the birds in the area are dying laughing watching me try not to crash. — Cynthia Hand

I don't have to do this alone.
If I had my gratitude journal on me now, that's what I would write. — Cynthia Hand

One of them is probably Michael, I think. All I have to do to find my dad is go to church. — Cynthia Hand

I'm looking at you. Why are you always trying to hide how pretty you are? — Cynthia Hand

It's like watching a train wreck, this conversation. — Cynthia Hand

My heart knows right where to go — Cynthia Hand

I sneaked out to his house a couple times in the middle of the night to watch over him while he slept, just in case, I dont know, his comic book collection decided to spontaneously combust. This was dumb and admittedly creepy in an Edward Cullen kind of way — Cynthia Hand

Fine." He smirks at me. "Nice to meet you, Carrots," he says, looking directly at my hair. "Oh, I mean Clara."
My face flames.
"Same to you, Rusty," I shoot back, but he's already striding away. — Cynthia Hand

As he crept down the stairs, it occurred to him that as a weasel, she could've saved herself and left him to die. Again.
But when the time came, she didn't. Again. — Cynthia Hand

No horse jokes," he said.
"My lord, I apologize for the horse joke. If you put down the book
unharmed!
I will give you a carrot."
He brandished the book at her. "Was that a horse joke?"
"Neigh."
"Was that a horse joke? — Cynthia Hand

Sorry I'm late. I had to drag some Californians out of a snowbank. — Cynthia Hand

Are you calling me a liar?" "I'm calling you a storyteller. — Cynthia Hand

Edward couldn't imagine his cousin Jane with a husband and a child, even though she was sixteen years old and sixteen was a bit spinsterish, by the standards of the day. — Cynthia Hand

Fog rolls between the blackened trees.
Reminds me of hell, actually.
I pull away from Tucker, shivering.
God, I need therapy, I think.
Right. As if I can picture telling my story to a shrink, stretched out on a sofa talking about how I'm part angel, how all angel-bloods have this purpose we're put on earth to fulfill, how on the day of my purpose I happened to bump into a fallen angel. Who literally took me to hell for about five minutes. Who tried to kill my mother. And how I fought him with a type of holy light. Then I had to fly off to save a boy from a forest fire, only I didn't save him. I saved my boyfriend instead, but it turns out that the original boy didn't need saving, anyway, because he's part angel, too.
Yeah, somehow I have a feeling that my first visit to a therapist would end up with me in a straitjacket getting comfy in my new padded cell. — Cynthia Hand

For everyone who knows there was enough room for Leonardo DiCaprio on that door. And — Cynthia Hand

We can take this "we belong together" thing slow — Cynthia Hand

I'm not worth it. But I want you to know, in case I ever do give you this letter and you read it first before you burn it or something, that for just a little while, you made me feel like I was really alive. Like I was special. — Cynthia Hand

Public poetry readings were known to be a rough business, especially when presenting new material. A man could lose a lot more than just his pride. — Cynthia Hand

If you end up going to prom, save me a dance, okay? — Cynthia Hand

I'm having an argument with myself. And I'm losing. So not good. — Cynthia Hand

He thought of Gracie. How she was a fox (but Edward was not aware of this little irony, as to our knowledge the term fox, used to convey the attractiveness of a woman, was not invented until Jimi Hendrix sang "Foxy Lady" in 1967). — Cynthia Hand

My dear sweet girl. You take on so much. You feel things so deeply. But you will be happy, my darling. You will shine. — Cynthia Hand

But maybe if he got close to me I could feel something. Maybe I could cry and the ache would go away. — Cynthia Hand

Just so you know, this is the last time I ever trust you," I say.
"But you're so cute all covered in snow."
"Shut up and help me find my ski." We search through the powder for a while, but don't locate my missing ski. After ten fruitless minutes I'm convinced that the mountain has eaten it. — Cynthia Hand

I know Jane is dear to you," Bess said. "I also know that she's in danger. But Jane is one person, Edward. There are thousands of lives at stake. There's a kingdom on the edge of a knife. We must tread carefully. — Cynthia Hand

It's your mind you have to train, like your mom said that one time, you have to separate yourself from all the crap, get down to the core, focus. — Cynthia Hand

Who on earth could feel comfortable enough to sleep in a room with no books? Edward — Cynthia Hand

Clara: "I won't hurt you." Be not afraid.
His eyes flashed with anger like i've come right out and called him chicken. — Cynthia Hand

There I go, Clara the parrot. I belong on a pirate's shoulder. — Cynthia Hand

Tucker: Why would you tell me now if it's against the rules?
Clara: Because I love you. — Cynthia Hand

My mind wanders back to the dream, to Christian, the way he's always looking out for me, catching me, keeping me on my feet. He's becoming my guardian, maybe. Someone who is there to keep me on my path. — Cynthia Hand

I close my eyes again. There's the smell of mountain snow on the air. I shiver. I would have brought a coat if I'd known I was going to be in Wyoming today. I'm a wuss about cold.
You're my California flower, I remember Tucker saying to me once. We were sitting on the pasture fence at the Lazy Dog, watching his dad break in a colt, the leaves in the trees red just like they are today. I started shivering so hard my teeth actually began to chatter, and Tucker laughed at me and called me that - his delicate California flower - and wrapped me in his coat. — Cynthia Hand

This isn't going to become one of those creepy situations where you show up at all hours of the night to watch me sleep, is it?" [Tucker] asks playfully.
"Every moment I'm away from you, I die a little," I say in return. — Cynthia Hand

a broken heart often led to a broken body. — Cynthia Hand

He loves me. Inside his head, his every thought and reaction was born of love, love inside and out, crazy, irrational (and sure, a bit lustful) love. He loves me, and that's also what terrified him when he saw me all lit up like a Christmas tree. He doesn't know what I am, but he loves me. — Cynthia Hand

Christian is staring at us. He's an only child and could never understand the delicate joys of sibling abuse. — Cynthia Hand

A light comes on in his eyes. "Sure, why not? A date with Queen Elizabeth." He smiles. — Cynthia Hand

He's like our own personal Gandalf or Dumbledore or somebody cool like that ... — Cynthia Hand

So what's the big emergency?" Jeffrey says. He jogs down the aisle of the Pink Garter toward where Christian and I are sitting, waiting for Angela, who uncharacteristically late. "I thought we weren't going to meet this week because we like, you know, spent all weekend together. I'm kind of sick of you people."
"Glad to see that you decided to grace us with your presence, anyway," Christian says. — Cynthia Hand

The key to a successful dance is to make it seem like you can't help yourself. You look into your partner's eyes, as if that gaze binds you while your body moves to the music. — Cynthia Hand

Tucker," I say. "I'm so glad you're still here."
I throw myself into his arms. He hugs me tightly.
"I couldn't leave," he says.
"I know."
"I mean, literally. I don't have a ride. — Cynthia Hand

Another silence for the record books. Then he sighs.
"I know. It's crazy. I feel like
" He stops himself. He suddenly looks so miserable that my heart aches for him.
I hate my life. — Cynthia Hand

This is the part where I kiss you. — Cynthia Hand

If it's all about desire, why do you not desire to be a man? — Cynthia Hand

Clara: My heart doesn't belong to me anymore. It belongs to Tucker. — Cynthia Hand

And what do you like about this word, brave?" "I like that it's derived from a verb," El answers. "Brave isn't something you are. It's something you do. It comes from action. I appreciate that. — Cynthia Hand

Have a nice life, Clara," he says. "You deserve to be happy. — Cynthia Hand

And I'm thankful, in that moment, full to the brim with gratitude that Christian is with me. He's here. My partner. My best friend. — Cynthia Hand

I know I'm not inspiring much confidence at this point, but there's something else I thought I'd bring up." She lifted her eyes to him. "I love you more than I love books. — Cynthia Hand

Angela says that angel-bloods are supposed to be immune to cold. It helps with the flying at high altitudes, I guess." I shiver again. "I must not have gotten the memo."
He smiles. "Maybe that power only applies to mature angel-bloods."
"Hey, are you calling me immature?"
"Oh no," he says, his smile blossoming into a full-blown grin. "I wouldn't dare."
"Good. Because I'm not the one peeping into someone else's window. — Cynthia Hand

I am taking you out. On a date. Before things get crazy. — Cynthia Hand

We'd fight so much less if everyone would just sit down and read. Gifford's — Cynthia Hand

The worst part about her new chambers was that all these wardrobes and vanities and drapes meant there was no space--none at all--for a bookcase. Who on earth could feel comfortable enough to sleep in a room with no books? — Cynthia Hand

Tucker snorts. "Sage is a fighter, it spreads over the land like wildfire, sucking up all the water, the nutrients in the earth, until everything else dies. It's a heart little plant, that I'll give it. But it's gray and ugly and ticks love to hide in it. You ever seen a tick?" He glances over at me. The look on my face must be pretty appalled because suddenly he gives and uncomfortable cough and says quietly, "Sage does have a nice smell. — Cynthia Hand

Hot is really not an adequate enough word for this guy. He is crazy beautiful. And it's more than his looks - the intentionally messy waves of his dark hair; the strong eyebrows that make his expression a bit serious, even when he smiles; his eyes, which I notice can look emerald in one light and hazel in another; the sweetly sculpted angles of his face; the curve of his full lips. — Cynthia Hand

I don't get the point, really," I'd said as we contemplated the plastic-wrapped roses. "Why give a girl something that's supposed to represent love that's only going to wilt and die in a matter of hours?"
Steven laughed and said that was a pretty pessimistic way to view life, and I shrugged.
Then he said, "All the best things are like that, though, Lex, the most beautiful things. Part of the beauty comes from the fact that they're short-lived." He picked up a bouquet of deep-red roses, held it out to me. "These will never be as beautiful as they are at this moment, so we have to enjoy them now."
I stared at him. He scratched the back of his neck, a little red-faced, then gave me a sheepish grin. "Just call me a romantic," he said.
I wanted to say that there were some things in this world, some rare things, that were beautiful and stayed that way. — Cynthia Hand

How's happiness class going, by the way?"
"Okay, so far."
"Are you feeling happy?" he asks with the hint of a smirk.
I shrug. "The professor says that happiness is wanting what you have."
Christian makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. "I see. Happiness is wanting what you have. Well, there you go. So what's the problem, then?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why is the class only okay?"
"Oh." I bit my lip, then confess. "Every time I meditate, I start glowing. — Cynthia Hand

This man, this impostor of a man, can kill my body but he can't touch my soul. — Cynthia Hand

I missed his voice in my head, in my ears. I missed his face. His smile. — Cynthia Hand

Clara," he says quietly. "I think it's time you told me about what happened in Italy. — Cynthia Hand

That's ironic, because I always thought you were the ugliest out of all the angels. — Cynthia Hand

First rule of Angel Club, you do not talk about Angel Club. — Cynthia Hand

He seems relieved to hear me say that. I guess idiots love company. — Cynthia Hand

I beat at him uselessly with my fists. I scream. My mind races. I'll pee on him. Puke, bite, scratch. Sure, I'll lose, but if he's going to mark me I am going to mark him, too, if such a thing is possible. — Cynthia Hand

I can't leave you," he says hoarsely.
"I can't leave you either," I say, shaking my head. "I can't."
"Then don't," he says, and grabs me behind the neck and kisses me again, and the world is tilting, and everything goes black. — Cynthia Hand

But here's the thing, that futuristic society where everybody is drugged to be happy all the time no matter what happens, it's horrible, monstrous even. It's like the end of humanity, because we are supposed to feel things. — Cynthia Hand