Melissa Jensen Quotes & Sayings

Sometimes no matter how many eyelashes or dandelion seeds you blow, no matter how much of your heart you tear out and slap on your sleeve, it just ain't gonna happen. — Melissa Jensen

We only tell the secrets we secretly want not to be secret, right? And learn as much from what isn't told. — Melissa Jensen

What is it about those two words - I'm sorry - that makes otherwise articulate guys into babbling idiots? — Melissa Jensen

Too racy?" I asked.
She snorted. "Too asinine. For being such a brilliant woman in all other respects, apparently, she was completely flummoxed by sex. When she wrote about it, it was either all buttoned up or completely, pardon the expression,screwy. Between you and me, the letters to Willing are just sloppy and boring. The spicy bits read like old Cosmopolitans now. The rest is just simpering and scolding him for not writing in kind."
"Of course he didn't. He loved Diana."
Maxine swept a shred of paper from her desk with a quick backhand. "Oh, for heavens sake." She huffed out a breath. "The heart of a teenager. — Melissa Jensen

What do you know about 1969, anyway? It was after your time."
"I know everything." He gave me that sleepy-eyed smile of his. "Love or money, I'm afraid."
"Great," I sighed, unable not to think about Alex and trips to Europe and the Hannandas with their Prada bags. "The two things that show absolutely no hint of ever coming my way. Shoot me now."
"I can't, darling girl. No arms. Besides, even if I had the ability, I would never do such a thing. It would be dastardly.And..."
"And?"
"Ah,Ella.Fond of you as I am, there is no passion in my feelings."
"Love or money," I droned.
"Love or money," Edward agreed. — Melissa Jensen

You wanna know something," was Dad's refrain while we were growing up, "get a book." Of course,he predates Google, but it stuck with me. — Melissa Jensen

The Top Ten Things Every Girl Should Have the First Time
5. A guy who realizes it's a big deal for you, this time.
6. A guy who understands that it's a big deal every time.
7. A guy who tries to make it special. Every time. — Melissa Jensen

Is love meant to make us feel like fools? — Melissa Jensen

This is not exactly what I had in mind when I agreed to miss lunch," Alex said grumpily forty minutes later. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to see what I was doing.
I stared him back into submission. "Wait."
The art room is usually empty Thursday afternoons except for me. Ms. Evers leaves early to teach her UArts class and looks up.Of course, I am one of the few entrusted with the Secret Location of the Key.
A few feet away from where I sat perched on a stool,Alex was posed on the anchient chaise we use for figure drawing. It's a relic, probably from the Palladinetti years: chipped mahogany and dusty velvet, what little remaining stuffing pokes out from a century of holes. I was probably luxurious once. Now it's like sitting on a slightly smelly board. But I'd wanted to sketch Alex as I so often saw him, reclining with his head propped on one hand,listening or talking or coaxing me to put down the glass, already,Ella,and come here. — Melissa Jensen

Truth: You have to talk to a boy-really talk,if you want him to see past the fact that you're not beautiful.
Truth: I'm not beautiful. Or much of a conversationalist.
Truth: I'm not entirely sure that the stuff behind the not-beautiful is going to be all that alluring, either. — Melissa Jensen

Love is one of the two things worth dying for. I have yet to decide on the second. It is most certainly not colorful fungus. — Melissa Jensen

One may hide cruel. One may even hide a certain amount of madness. One can never hide stupidity. — Melissa Jensen

1.
"Ahem. I know you hate Mondays, madam, but you picked the absolutely wrong one to play hooky. Or be sick. Yes, I suppose it's vaguely possible that you are actually sick. Anyway, here we are at lunch, Sadie and I, witnessing total social disorder. Your friend Alexander Bainbridge is sitting at the usual table, but facing the room. Amanda Alstead is sitting at Table One. Or, should I say,sitting more or less on a Phillite senior boy, whose name is unimportant, at Table One. A very nice young lady at the next table over-you know, the one who writes about Mr. Darcy-has just informeed us that Amanda dumpled Alex over the break. On Thanksgiving Day,no less. By e-mail. No telling how much truth is there, but a lot more than a kernal, I would say. We have a large, seven-dollar bag o' movie popcorn here. Thought you'd like to know. Call me. — Melissa Jensen

How did you find me?" I asked.
"Easy.I looked in the school directory and called Frankie Hobbes this morning."
"You what?"
"He was okay, only called me 'Dickhead' twice."
I winced. "Sorry."
"Not a problem. From his viewpoint I deserve it." He shrugged. "He'll come around. We'll be down to one negative nickname per conversation by summer. — Melissa Jensen

3.
Ella,um,it's Alex. I hope this is the right number.I had to get it from a really old phone book. I would have gotten your cell number from Sadie Winslow, but ... well, every time I got near her today, Frankie Hobbes showed his teeth. He's a little scary for such a skinny guy ... Anyway. You weren't in English today. You weren't anywhere that I could see today.Um ... call me. I was thinking I could come over ... — Melissa Jensen

Is your nasty natural?" I heard myself asking. "Or did you get it implanted? — Melissa Jensen

So,if it's all love or money, which is Alex Bainbridge?"
I blinked at him. "What?"
"He's a turd, Ella. He looked right through you like you were a ghost, but you still have a thing for him."
"I do n-"
"Don't even. You've gone through the whole week watching for him. So what is it? I would really like to know. Love or money?"
"I have not been watching for him!" I snapped. Oh, but I had, in every hallway, at lunch, when I took my seat at the edge of English class. "And if I have, it's just so I can look away first."
Frankie rolled his eyes. "Shall I get you a pail of water?"
"Why?"
"Your pants are on fire."
I actually looked down at my lap. "Oh, very funny." I shot Sadie a look when she giggled. — Melissa Jensen

Mystery is good."
He drummed his fingertips on my thigh. "Maybe.Maybe not. But I'll let it go. How about this: If I were to open the top drawer of your dresser, what would I find?"
"Are we back to discussing my underwear again?"
"Only in graphic detail ... " He flicked my sore knee, but not where the bruise was. "I keep loose change and my oldest comic books in mine. Some people have journals or photographs or awards ... "
"Okay,okay." I sighed. "Underwear," I said. "Two ancient swimsuits, and a magazine file."
"Of ... ?"
"Pictures I've pulled out of magazines."
"Yes,thank you. I gathered that. What's in it?"
I squirmed a little and contemplated lying. Travel pix, shoes, hints on getting glue off of Ultrasuede ... "Mostly pictures of models with short hair," I confessed finally. "It's sort of a goal of mine."
Alex reached up and wrapped a strand around his finger. "I like your hair," he said quietly, "but I think you'd look great whatever you did with it. — Melissa Jensen

Truth (according to Edward Willing): People who rely on first sight are either lazy or deluded. — Melissa Jensen

You'd think that philisophy might have put the kibosh on some of the Freddy Krueger stuff," I mused, tilting my jaw until I felt the pull of the scar.
"And well it might, if you ever let on that it hurt."
I'm inclined to agree with that, too, but there's a limit. "So I should start going strapless."
"DOn't be snotty. — Melissa Jensen

My sister taught me the best trick. When the salesclerk isn't looking, you make Sharpie marks on the front of all the others so no one else will buy them. I mean, how embarrassing would it be to have someone else show up at the dance wearing the same dress! This way, I know I'll be the only one."
"God,I wouldn't have the guts.What if you got caught!"
The Sharpie-wielding Phillite shrugged. "I would put them all on my dad's card. But then I wouldn't be able to buy the Manolos ... "
She and her impressed friends headed down the hall.Frankie banged his locker closed with unnecessary force. "Mind-boggling," he muttered. "All that money, and they can't buy a clue. — Melissa Jensen

Love is one of two things worth dying for. I have yet to decide on the second. — Melissa Jensen

There,of course,was Alex. He wasn't watching Amanda.He was looking over her head, his bored gaze skimming over the room. Before I could turn away, it had found mine. He didn't smile; he certainly didn't wave.But he didn't look away.And I had absolutely no idea what to do. — Melissa Jensen

Just out of curiosity, do they know I'm here?"
"Yep." My Mother did, anyway. Mention of a French tutor had effectively headed off any possibility of shopping.
"I take it they trust you not to do anything inappropriate."
I couldn't tell if he was being serious. I assumed not. "Absolutely. In fact,my mother would probably pay you to do something to make them trust me a little less." I took a look at his face. He looked a little stunned. "Oh,no. I didn't mean-"
Or maybe I did. But Alex was backing away from me, hands raised. "okay."
"J'etais stupide."
He sat down heavily on the edge of my desk, narrowly missing the biscotti. "I wouldn't say that. But your use of the imperfect is improving."
"Just what I always wanted," I said sadly, "to get better at imperfection. — Melissa Jensen

I figured Maxine probably had bathroom trips preplanned and efficiently choreographed. — Melissa Jensen

Shall we go to Paris next spring? You will certainly be well by then. I agree that Dr. Tapper is far more intelligent and sensible than many of his profession. If he tells you that you are not to be slogging through the Wissahickon in this weather, you must deisit with your daily slog. Your lungs are fragile, my love. I would not have you expiring for a sight of interesting lichen. Love is one of two things worth dying for.I have yet to decide on the second.It is most certainly not colorful fungus.
I shall be home as soon as this business is settled, certainly no more than a week.My mother complains that you will not have her to dinner. Good for you. Take pity on Hamilton's new wife and have her to tea.Fire the cook, please.I cannot face another dish of sweetbreads.
With all my love always,
Edward — Melissa Jensen

I wove my way between the tables, pulling my hair forward over my shoulders as I went.Alex was still sitting when I reached him.
"Hey.This was on the floor in the upstairs hall ... "
I stood behind his chair. Completely frozen.
I might have stood there for a very long time if he hadn't pushed himself away from the table to get up. The chair thumped me in the stomach first, then in the knees.I think I made a noise. I dropped his book.
"Oh.Oh,crap.I'm really sorry!" Alex jerked the chair out of the way and bent down a little. He had to, to see my face. "You okay?"
I did manage to nod.
"Seriously.I must have really pounded you there.You sure you're all right?"
"Yes,fine," I whispered.
Across the table, Chase Vere laughed. "Dude, she was,like, standing right behind you. — Melissa Jensen

Guys generally need us to come with subtitles, cue cards, and liability waivers. — Melissa Jensen

Ella. If you don't learn to carpe the diem, you will be, while most certainly not Nobody, something less than a Somebody. — Melissa Jensen

Alex was late. I was grateful. I was also incredibly nervous and I'd gotten mascara in my eye. I blinked a lot as I did a last check. — Melissa Jensen

Make poverty, sickness, and death central issues in the contract," he says, "it's no wonder the divorce rate is fifty percent. — Melissa Jensen

Frankie looks like he might break your heart a little. Daniel looks like he might rip it from your chest, still beating, and bite it. — Melissa Jensen

I figured anything Maxine Rothaus called rough was, in fact, vicious and lawless and inclined to eat its own young. — Melissa Jensen

Listen, Liar Liar, you promised. Enough with Alex Bainbridge."
Home truths are not meant to be comfortable, I know.Frankie knows it, too, and for a teeny tiny second, I hated him just a teeny tiny bit for knowing just where to stick the pin.
I glared at him. "How did this go from being about Sadie to an assault on my honesty? Huh?"
He shrugged. "I love you, Fiorella. We ain't got no money, honey, but we got love."
I've never been able to hate Frankie for more than a second at a time. — Melissa Jensen

Promise me this: ... you will stand for yourself, especially in the times when no one seems interested in standing for you. — Melissa Jensen

What is it you want, Ella?"
"What you had," I answered softly, "with Diana. That once-in-a-lifetime connection that makes everything good."
"Fine.But you do realize that in orde to be loved like that, you have to let the lucky gentleman see you.I mean truly see you, scars and all."
"Yes,Edward, I am fully aware of that."
"But you don't want anyone to really look at you."
He had me there. "Well,no."
"Good luck with that,then," he said, then yawned and cosed his eyes, telling me the conversation was over. — Melissa Jensen

It's not the scar and it's abso-freakin-lutely not you."
I dropped my hand. "Yeah, right." I sagged against him a little. For being as little as he is, Frankie's really solid. "It's never me."
I felt his sigh against my shoulder blades. — Melissa Jensen

Not much good has ever been prefaced by variations of "Have a seat." I thought of headmasters' offices and electric chairs. — Melissa Jensen

I watched the silent battle in awe. Daniel waited patiently, giving Chloe a half smile that was less a friendly expression than a display of his incisors, which are slightly longer than the teeth on either side. It makes him look even more feline than he already does.
"Oh, go ahead.Card hime," Frankie said wearily. "He doesn't mind."
"No,no.That's okay.I'll be right back ... " And she was gone.
Daniel bared more teeth. "Nice, bro."
"What? You're disgustingly proud of that ID."
Daniel laughed. "I am," he agreed. "I totally am. — Melissa Jensen

Qui craint de souffrir, il souffre deja de ce qu'il craint."
"Who fears to suffer, already suffers what he fears. — Melissa Jensen

I went to stand next to him. He radiated heat. It was distracting. — Melissa Jensen

Relationships are like Whack-a-Mole. You squash one annoying deformity and another one pops up in no time. — Melissa Jensen

Well, good night," he said cheerfully. "Thanks for dinner."
"Oh. Right." I took a half step back toward the house. "You're welcome."
"Ella."
"Yeah?"
"You've gotta be kidding."
PECo hadn't some yet, so it was pretty dark where we were standing. I don't know how his hand found mine so fast, but one second I was thinking about how much I didn't want to say good night, and the next I was up against his chest, standing on my toes with my feet between his.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his breath chocolaty and warm against my forehead.
"Yeah," I answered, my own breath coming in quick little jumps. "Yeah."
"Good.I have something I have to tell you."
I waited.
"I hate that Klimt painting," he said. "I really hate it."
Then he was folding me into his coat and his face was right above mine, and there was only one kiss that mattered. — Melissa Jensen

So I went to history, where I paid a little attention,French, where I paid none, and then to art.
I convinced Ms. Evers that I (a) would benefit from outside time, and (b) should be excused from all further classes because I was running out of time at the archive and I needed to be there ASAP. I have no idea if she believed me. She wrote me a note anyway. — Melissa Jensen