You Are Not The Only Girl Quotes & Sayings

Real fairy tales are not for the fainthearted. Children get eaten by witches and chased by wolves; women fall into comas and are tortured by evil relatives. Somehow all that pain and suffering is worthwhile, though, when it leads to the ending: happily ever after. Suddenly it no longer matters if you got a B- on your midterm in French or you're the only girl in the school who doesn't have a date for the spring formal. Happily ever after trumps everything. But what if ever after could change? — Jodi Picoult

He lay there and felt something and then her hand holding him and searching lower and he helped with his hands and then lay back in the dark and did not think at all and only felt the weight and the strangeness inside and she said, "Now you can't tell who is who can you?"
"No."
"You are changing," she said. "Oh you are. You are. Yes you are and you're my girl Catherine. Will you change and be my girl and let me take you?"
"You're Catherine."
"No. I'm Peter. You're my wonderful Catherine. You're my beautiful lovely Catherine. You were so good to change. Oh thank you, Catherine, so much. Please understand. Please know and understand. I'm going to make love to you forever. — Ernest Hemingway,

There are people who've challenged me on that, but I think there still are. Not everybody looses their virginity when they're 12, there are always these girls who are sort of outside the norm, who have only each other to hang with and talk to. Who are what you would call late bloomers; they don't know it now but when they're 25 they're going to be pretty damn interesting. — Naomi Foner Gyllenhaal

Why you are here in the first place," Lend finished saying. His voice had a distinctly menacing tone.
"Why, to make you the best omelet you've ever had, of course." There was a pause that I could only fill with my imagination. It involved Lend making I'm going to kill you motions with his hands. "Hey-oh," Jack continued, "I rescued our girl Evie from the Center and helped her get to the Faerie Realms to save you."
"Our girl is my girl. And that makes everything okay now?"
"It doesn't," I yelled. Would we never be able to have a quiet conversation again? "But it's a start."
"A start I intend to finish with this omelet," Jack said, "because after you've eaten it, all will be forgiven."
"I'm not eating anything you make," Lend answered. I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the fridge opening and drawers shutting slightly harder than they needed to. — Kiersten White

The only person in my head is me.
Tibe is not the same. The crown has changed him, as you feared it would.
The fire is in him, the fire that will burn all the world.
And it is in your son, in the prince who will never change his blood and will never sit a throne.
The only person in my head is me.
The only person who has not changed is you. You are still the little girl in a dusty room, forgotten, unwanted, out of place. You are the queen of everything, mother to a beautiful son, wife to a king who loves you, and still you cannot find it in yourself to smile.
Still you make nothing.
Still you are empty.
The only person in your head is you.
And she is no one of any importance.
She is nothing — Victoria Aveyard

You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, such as i am. Though for myself alone I would not be ambitious in my wish to wish myself much better, yet for you I would be trebled twenty times myself, a thousand times more rich, that only to stand high in your accunt I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, exceed account. But the full sum of me is sum of something, which, to term in gross, is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpracticed; happy in this, she is not yet so old but she may learn; happier than this, she is not bred so dull but she can learn; happiest of all, is that her gentle spirit commits itself to yours to be idrected as from her lord, her governor, her king. Myself, and what is mine, to you and yours is now converted. But now I was the lord of this fair mansion, master of my servants, queen o'er myself; and even now, but now, this house, these servants, and this same myself are yours, my lord's. I give them. — William Shakespeare

Do you know how hard it is to paint kindness?" She leaned her hip against a desk in the corner of the room, still watching me. "It's the only part of a person I really want to capture. Everything else seems to get lost in layers of deception or defensiveness. But not kindness. You can't hide it. And people either are or they aren't. — Laura Anderson Kurk

I clinked my bottle against his. "To being the only girl a
guy with no standards doesn't want to sleep with." I said,
taking a swig.
"Are you serious?" he asked, pulling the bottle from my
mouth. When I didn't recant, he leaned toward me. "First of
all ... I have standards. I've never been with an ugly woman.
Ever. Second of all, I wanted to sleep with you. I thought
about throwing you over my couch fifty different ways, but I
haven't because I don't see you that way anymore. It's not
that I'm not attracted to you, I just think you're better than
that."
I couldn't hold back the smug smile that crept across my
face. "You think I'm too good for you."
He sneered at my second insult. "I can't think of a single
guy I know that's good enough for you. — Jamie McGuire

[Her message to women and girls of the world] You are more powerful than you can possibly imagine. You are more powerful than you can possibly imagine. And it is incumbent upon you to use that power
not only for yourself, but for everyone else around you. — Jennifer Beals

But when you say, "I am beautiful," not only does beauty, youth, and freshness start coming your way, but on the inside your spirit also comes alive. Your self-image begins to improve, and you'll start carrying yourself like you're someone special. You won't drag through the day feeling less than or inferior. You'll have that spring in your step, that "You go, girl!" attitude. Beauty is not in how thin or tall you are, how perfect you look. Beauty is in being who God made you to be with confidence. If you're a size 4, great. If you're a size 24, great. Take what you have and make the most of it. — Joel Osteen

The greatest feminists have also been the greatest lovers. I'm thinking not only of Mary Wollstonecraft and her daughter Mary Shelley, but of Anais Nin, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and of course Sappho. You cannot divide creative juices from human juices. And as long as juicy women are equated with bad women, we will err on the side of being bad. — Erica Jong

You are worried and bothered about so many things; but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her" (Luke 10:41-42)
Choosing to please God sounds right at first, but it so often leads to a performing life, a girl trying to become good, a lean-on-myself theology. If I am trying to please God, it is difficult trust God. But when I trust God, pleasing him is automatic.
Anything we do to get life and identity outside of Christ is an idol, even service to Christ. He doesn't want my service. He wants me. And from that life-giving relationship, "streams of living water will flow from within" (John 7:38 NIV) — Emily P. Freeman

Face it. There's not going to be a happy ending ... at least not with this hero. So don't go mooning around thinking that your breakup is only the crisis before the big romantic scene, because I'm here to tell you that it's not. When you are dumped, you are dumped, and the guy isn't going to change his mind and realize that suddenly he loves you instead of that girl he's flirting with in lunchroom, now that he's free. — E. Lockhart

Even if you have the wit to look by yourself in a bush away from the other children, there are not many bell crickets in the world. Probably you will find a girl like a grasshopper whom you think is a bell cricket.And finally, to your clouded, wounded heart, even a true bell cricket will seem like a grasshopper. Should that day come, when it seems to you that the world is only full of grasshoppers, I will think it a pity that you have no way to remember tonight's play of light, when your name was written in green by your beautiful lantern on a girl's breast. — Yasunari Kawabata

If you follow only one rule, let it be this one: Be yourself. The really strong boy-girl relationships are based on what people really are, not on what they pretend to be. Each time you are honest and conduct yourself with honesty, a success force will drive you toward greater success. Each time you lie, even with a little white lie, there are strong forces pushing you toward failure. — Joseph Sugarman

You are the only girl with whom I want to live, and the only girl without whom I can not live. — Rohit Sharma

Oh, don't go on like that!" cried the poor Queen, wringing her hands in despair. "Consider what a great girl you are. Consider what a long way you've come today. Consider what o'clock it is. Consider anything, only don't cry!"
Alice could not help laughing at this, even in the midst of her tears. "Can you keep from crying by considering things?" she asked.
"That's that way it's done," the Queen said with great decision: "nobody can do two things at once, you know. — Lewis Carroll

You're the only one mean enough to make her think we're kidnappers and killers."
I'd never heard Logan so passionate.
"We are killers," Matthias said.
Bad news.
"Not girls. We don't kill girls."
Good news.
"She's no girl."
Insulting news?
A & E Kirk (2012-01-07). Demons at Deadnight (Divinicus Nex Chronicles series Book 1) (p. 311). A&E Kirk. Kindle Edition. — A&E Kirk

Girl in the wind
blowing wide open
the closed doors of my life -
which way are we going?

Standing against the lurid sky
on the stark brink of ocean
arms outstretched
as if your love and hunger
would embrace the world
and I in my inner room
playing my poetic premutations
can only look and ask the unanswerable.

Brave and cunning I speak to my typewriter
knowing it will not answer back
knowing it will not reply
what I ask and do not want to hear
as you with the vast sunset merge
a multitude of dreams away
uniquely alone and outside of me
in the purity and rarity of this moment
immeasurably beyond my love and my rage

and with the dying call of gulls
the echo resounds:

Girl in the wind
throwing aside
the tight shutters of my life -
which way are we going? — Christy Brown

Tolstoy isn't the only reason I don't wish to marry," Pandora said. "Whatever your reasons, they are unsound. I will explain to you later why you do wish to marry. Furthermore, you are an unconventional girl, and you must learn to conceal it. There is no happiness for any individual, man or woman, who does not dwell within the broad zone of average. — Lisa Kleypas

His Majesty needs a can-I girl anyway. And I'm not it."
"A can-I girl?" Andrea frowned.
I leaned back. "'Can I fetch your food, Your Majesty? Can I tell you how strong and mighty you are, Your Majesty? Can I pick your fleas, Your Majesty? Can I kiss your ass, Your Majesty? Can I ... "
It dawned on me that Raphael was sitting very still. Frozen, like a statue, his gaze fixed on the point above my head. "He's standing behind me, isn't he?"
Andrea nodded slowly.
"Technically it should be 'may I'," Curran said, his voice deeper than I remembered. "Since you're asking for permission."
Why me?
"To answer your question, yes, you may kiss my ass. Normally I prefer maintain my personal space, but you're a Friend of the Pack and your services have proven useful once or twice. I strive to accommodate the wishes of persons friendly to my people. My only question is, would kissing my ass be obeisance, grooming, or foreplay? — Ilona Andrews

All I need is
backup. He's the little angel that sits on my shoulder whispering in my ear,
"You can do it!" It's funny. I'm thirty years old now and I still feel like a little
girl. I'm still looking around to check and see what other people are doing
to make sure I'm not completely different; I'm still looking around for help,
hoping for a quick nudge and a whisper of advice. But I can't seem to be able
to catch anybody's eye. Nobody else around me seems to be looking around
and wondering what to do. Why is it that I feel like I'm the only person who
is confused and concerned about the choices I've made and where I'm
headed? Everywhere I look, I see people just getting on with it. Maybe I
should just follow suit and get on with it. — Cecelia Ahern

The Indians are the Italians of Asia", Didier pronounced with a sage and mischievous grin. "It can be said, certainly, with equal justice, that the Italians are the Indians of Europe, but you do understand me, I think. There is so much Italian in the Indians, and so much Indians in the Italians. They are both people of the Madonna - they demand a goddess, even if the religion does not provide one. Every man in both countries is a singer when he is happy, and every woman is a dancer when she walks to the shop at the corner. For them, food is music inside the body, and music is food inside the heart. The Language of India and the language of Italy, they make every man a poet, and make something beautiful from every banalite. They are nations where love - amore, pyaar - makes a cavalier of a Borsalino on a street corner, and makes a princess of a peasant girl, if only for the second that her eyes meet yours. — Gregory David Roberts

For the first time since she met him, she asked herself whether mr Dodgson was really the sunny personality she had at first imagined. Did she honestly want to spend the rest of her life with him, setting up home in a bathing machine, and living on what she could catch in a shrimp net? She pulled a face, stood up, brushed her frock. She was only eight, she told herself. As Jessie Fowler had pointed out this afternoon, a girl of eight needn't say yes to the first man who says he loves his love with a D. 'Panic about spinsterhood when you are ten and a half', said the worldly Jessie. 'But really, not before'. — Lynne Truss

Reading is a sage way to bump up against life. Reading may be an escape, but it is not an escape from my own life and problems. It is an escape from the narrow boundaries of being only me. Reading in some wonderful ways helps me find out who I am. When she was a young girl Patricia MacLachlan's mother encouraged her to "read a book and find out who you are." And it is true that in some ways reading defines me as it refines me. Reading enlarges my vision of the world; it helps me understand someone who is different from me. It makes me bigger on the inside. We tend to see the world from our own perspective; it is good to see it from the eyes of others. Good literature helps me understand who I am in relation to what others experience. Far from being an escape from reality, good literature is a window into reality. I read to feel life. — Gladys M. Hunt

The raft finally got here," he said.
Calypso snorted. Her eyes might have been red, but it was hard to tell in the moonlight. "You just noticed?"
"But if it only shows up for guys you like-"
"Don't push your luck, Leo Valdez," she said. "I still hate you."
"Okay."
"And you are not coming back here," she insisted. "So don't give me any empty promises."
"How about a full promise?" he said. "Because I'm definitely-"
She grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, which effectively shut him up.
For all his joking and flirting, Leo had never kissed a girl before. Well, sisterly pecks on the cheeck from Piper, but that didn't count. This was a real, full-contact kiss. If Leo had had gears and wires in his brain, they would've short-circuited.
Calypso pushed him away. "That didn't happen."
"Okay." His voice sounded an octave higher than usual. — Rick Riordan

But Anya, you're not any girl, you are someone very special. You have a gift of happiness that's almost magical".
To Anya the gentle fluttering of new life within reminded her that Adam had not only been there in Stockholm but would remain with her forever.
"It is completely possible. Idiopathic reversals of ovarian failure are well documented in the literature. — Erich Segal

When I get to Club Mystique at nine, Alex sneaks up behind me outside. I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck.
"Whoa, girl," he says, taken aback. "I thought we were keepin' this thing between us a secret. I hate to tell you, but a bunch of north siders from Fairfield are right over there. And they're starin' at us."
"I don't care. Not anymore."
"Why?"
"You only live once."
He seems to like my answer, because he takes my hand in his and leads me to the back of the line. It's cold outside, so he opens his leather jacket and envelopes me in his warmth while we wait to get in.
I look up at him, our bodies pressed together. "Are you going to dance with me tonight?" I ask.
"Hell, yeah."
"Colin never wanted to dance with me."
"I'm not Colin, querida, and never will be."
"Good. I've got you, Alex. I realize it's all I need and I'm ready to share it with the world. — Simone Elkeles

Dr. Armonson stitched up her wrist wounds. Within five minutes of the transfusion he declared her out of danger. Chucking her under the chin, he said, "What are you doing here, honey? You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets."
And it was then Cecilia gave orally what was to be her only form of suicide note, and a useless one at that, because she was going to live: "Obviously, Doctor," she said, "you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl. — Jeffrey Eugenides

Four shrugs. "So I suggest that you take the next week to consider your fears and develop strategies to face them." "That doesn't sound fair," says Peter. "What if one person only has seven fears and someone else has twenty? That's not their fault." Four stares at him for a few seconds and then laughs. "Do you really want to talk to me about what's fair?" The crowd of initiates parts to make way for him as he walks toward Peter, folds his arms, and says, in a deadly voice, "I understand why you're worried, Peter. The events of last night certainly proved that you are a miserable coward." Peter stares back, expressionless. "So now we all know," says Four, quietly, "that you are afraid of a short, skinny girl from Abnegation." His mouth curls in a smile. — Veronica Roth

I have no problem with being fabulous. My problem comes when you won't allow yourself to be an ordinary woman with a decent apartment and an okay job. When only the mom is allowed to be boring - because her life is so rich with meaning.

When I carefully choreographed the story of how amazing I was, I was acting like one of those helicopter parents - you know, the ones who refuse to admit that their Jackson might suck at math or Stella might not be the world's greatest violinist. 'You are special! You are special!' they cry to their children, hoping this will boost their confidence. But the real message is one of panic: You must be special. Ordinary is not okay. When I walked into a party projecting the Shiny Girl - she of the lighthearted flings and glitzy job - I was essentially doing the same thing. — Sara Eckel

How do you not believe in fate? How do you ever think that you are the one in control? How could she have been so foolish as to think that she had any authority over her future? How could she have been so brazen as to think that this had anything at all to do with her? And so instead of rage, she is suddenly filled with a sense of thankfulness. Her chest inflates with a sense of kinship she hasn't felt before. This girl is not to blame. No one really is to blame. Even the man, Declan she says, is culpable only of cowardice. Because the world sometimes conspires against us even as we embrace it. And sometimes the world embraces us, even as we forsake it. Maybe this is God, she thinks. This quiet, easy truth. And religion, the acceptance of it. — T. Greenwood

Angela, of course, it's just you, and you will never be enough, you will never have all the answers, and you will never become the perfect Christian girl; that's why you have always needed a Savior. Not only does Jesus save you from your sin, He saves you from your weakness. He saves you from your flawed and fallen self. And He saves you from your doubts. He is enough every time you are not. — Angela Thomas

If only you would go to the university," he said. "Only enlightened and holy people are interesting, it's only they who are wanted. The more of such people there are, the sooner the Kingdom of God will come on earth. Of your town then not one stone will be left, everything will he blown up from the foundations, everything will be changed as though by magic. And then there will be immense, magnificent houses here, wonderful gardens, marvellous fountains, remarkable people ... But that's not what matters most. What matters most is that the crowd, in our sense of the word, in the sense in which it exists now
that evil will not exist then, because every man will believe and every man will know what he is living for and no one will seek moral support in the crowd. Dear Nadya, darling girl, go away! Show them all that you are sick of this stagnant, grey, sinful life. Prove it to yourself at least! — Anton Chekhov

Golden girl, there you are. I'm singing for the crowd, the music's loud. I'm living my dream, riding the high, But I see you there, sunlight in your hair, And I'm ready to go, desperate to fly. Golden girl, there you are. Dancing for the crowd, the music's loud. I want you so bad. I can't look away. Later, you'll drop to your knees. You'll beg me please. And then you'll go, it's only your body I know. Golden girl, where'd you go? You're not there, with sunlight in your hair. I could have you in the bar or the back of my car, But never your heart. I'm falling apart. I'll drop to my knees, I'll beg you. Please. Please don't go. There's so much more I want to know. Eva, please. I'm on my knees. Golden girl, where'd you go? I'm singing for the crowd, the music's loud. And you're not there, with sunlight in your hair. Eva, please. I'm on my knees. — Sylvia Day

But you have fought and you have scraped and you have committed in a way that very few can. No one in any company has come as far as you have this year. No one. There's a princess in you, Evie, and a cracking good one. You've simply got to allow yourself the chance to be great." He began to pack away sewing supplies into wooden tubs. "Surviving the Academy only becomes more difficult next year. If you're planning to be here through the end, there is one thing you must absolutely understand. No victim has ever graduated from this Academy." She studied his bulbous back as he shuffled to the storeroom, letting his words linger. "You are not a victim in this world unless you choose to be. And if that's your choice, then you'll never be more than a frightened girl lost in the woods." He paused in the doorway, rubbing his back with the heel of his hand. "But the nature of choices is that there is always another." And a great, mischievous smile crawled across his face. — M.A. Larson

That doesn't sound fair," says Peter. "What if one person only has seven fears and someone else has twenty? That's not their fault."
Four stares at him for a few seconds and then laughs. "Do you really want to talk to me about what's fair?"
The crowd of initiates parts to make way for him as he walks toward Peter, folds his arms,and says,in a deadly voice, "I understand why you're worried, Peter.The events of last night certainly proved that you are a miserable coward."
Peter stares back,expressionless.
"So now we all know," says Four, quietly, "that you are afraid of a short, skinny girl from Abnegation." His mouth curls in a smile.
Will puts his arm around me. Christina's shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. And somewhere within me,I find a smile too. — Veronica Roth

when your little girl
asks you if she's pretty
your heart will drop like a wineglass
on the hardwood floor
part of you will want to say
of course you are, don't ever question it
and the other part
the part that is clawing at
you
will want to grab her by her shoulders
look straight into the wells of
her eyes until they echo back to you
and say
you do not have to be if you don't want to
it is not your job
both will feel right
one will feel better
she will only understand the first
when she wants to cut her hair off
or wear her brother's clothes
you will feel the words in your
mouth like marbles
you do not have to be pretty if you don't want to
it is not your job — Caitlyn Siehl

What a lucky girl you are to have this opportunity to live in one of the world's great cities at this most fascinating point in its long, rich history, they had said. Little Becky had known enough not to ask if there was going to be a Banana Republic or a Gap there, or a Tower Records or a Starbucks or a Tweeters or a Blockbuster or a Super CVS or a Saks. Her mother only mentioned museums and concert halls and churches and architecture, so Little Becky was quite sure there was no room left in Prague for anything good to be built. — Nancy Clark

That's how powerful you are, girl ... You pretty, but pretty alone is not what people see. You the kinda pretty, the kinda beauty, that's like a mirror. Men and women see themselves in you, only now they so beautiful that they can't bear to see you go. — Walter Mosley

Why, we are just the same - I am only a little girl like you. It's just an accident that I am not you, and you are not me! — Frances Hodgson Burnett

When God creates Eve, he calls her an ezer kenegdo. 'It is not good for the man to be alone, I shall make him [an ezer kenegdo]' (Gen. 2:18 Alter). Hebrew scholar Robert Alter, who has spent years translating the book of Genesis, says that this phrase is 'notoriously difficult to translate.' The various attempts we have in English are "helper" or "companion" or the notorious "help meet." Why are these translations so incredibly wimpy, boring, flat ... disappointing? What is a help meet, anyway? What little girl dances through the house singing "One day I shall be a help meet?" Companion? A dog can be a companion. Helper? Sounds like Hamburger Helper. Alter is getting close when he translates it "sustainer beside him"
The word ezer is used only twenty other places in the entire Old Testament. And in every other instance the person being described is God himself, when you need him to come through for you desperately. — Stasi Eldredge

All writers are insecure, the male ones especially. It's well known. Why else would they spend so much time on make-believe? They're only happy in their imaginary worlds, because that's where they're in charge - where they're God. Did you know that Hemingway's mother dressed him as a girl until he was six years old?
I was not offended by Claudia's glib psychological theory. Like many glib psychological theories, it struck me as fundamentally correct. — Philip Sington

Moving forward quietly to Jerott's side, Adam Blacklock had heard. 'Don't you understand? The authorities are afraid of them both,' he said gently. 'Why do you supose this cordon is here, which only an unarmed girl was allowed to pass through? Lymond, loyal to Scotland, might be a threat to French power greater than even Gabriel, one of these days - Philippa!' And a wordless shout, like a cry at a cockfight, rose among the stone pillars and sank muffled into the old, dusty banners above the choir roof. For Philippa Somerville, who believed in action when words were not enough, had leaned over and snatched the knife from Lymond's left hand. — Dorothy Dunnett

While this is all very amusing," said the Queen coolly, leaning forward, "the kiss that will free the girl is the kiss that she most desires." The cruel delight in her face and voice had sharpened, and her words seemed to stab into Clary's ears like needles. "Only that and nothing more." Simon looked as if she had hit him. Clary wanted to reach out to him, but she stood frozen to the spot, too horrified to move. "Why are you doing this?" Jace demanded. "I rather thought I was offering you a boon." Jace flushed, but said nothing. He avoided looking at Clary. Simon said, "That's ridiculous. They're brother and sister."
The Queen shrugged, a delicate twitch of her shoulders. "Desire is not always lessened by disgust. Nor can it be bestowed, like a favor, to those most deserving of it. — Cassandra Clare

There are women named Faith, Hope, Joy, and Prudence. Why not Despair, Guilt, Rage, and Grief? It seems only right. 'Tom, I'd like you to meet the girl of my dreams, Tragedy.' These days, Trajedi. — George Carlin

You impress people with your mind. With your kind heart and humble attitude. And while you're a beautiful girl, your looks or the way you dress shouldn't be the reason people are impressed by you. And when you're older and boys start to notice you, I want you to remember that. Because if it's only your looks they're attracted to, then they're not the one for you, Lo. You can do better. You will do better. — Jay McLean

There's a girl calm people don't know about. It's a girl teen standstill. A motionless peace. It doesn't come from anywhere but inside us, and it only lasts for a few years. It's born from being a not woman yet. It's free flowing and invisible. It's the eye of the violent storm you call my teenage daughter. In this place we are undisturbed by all the moronic things you think about us. Our voices like rain falling. We are serene. Smooth. With more perfect hair and skin than you will ever again know. Daughters of Eve. — Lidia Yuknavitch

There are so many actors that I've worked with that I'd like to work with again and there are so many girls. So often when you're up for a role, you're the only girl, and people think that a positive thing: "You get to be the only girl here!" That's not an exciting kind of idea to me. — Emily Browning

The girl did not even know the video would be leaked. Yet it is her willingness to suffer hardship that gave her power. Martyrs, you see, are like bees. Their only power comes in death. How many of you would sacrifice yourself to not kill, but merely hurt your enemy? Not one of you, I wager."

I taste blood in my mouth. I have the knifeRing Dancer gave me. But I breathe the fury down. I am no martyr. I am not vengeance. I am Eo's dream. Still, doing nothing while her murderer gloats feels like a betrayal.

"In time you will receive your Scars from my sword," Augustus closes. "But first you must earn them. — Pierce Brown

Harwin's eyes went from her face to the flayed man on her doublet. "How do you know me?" he said, frowning suspiciously. "The flayed man ... who are you, some serving boy to Lord Leech?"
For a moment she did not know how to answer. She'd had so many names. Had she only dreamed Arya Stark? "I'm a girl," she sniffed. "I was Lord Bolton's cupbearer but he was going to leave me for the goat, so I ran off with Gendry and Hot Pie. You have to know me! You used to lead my pony, when I was little."
His eyes went wide. "Gods be good," he said in a choked voice. "Arya Underfoot? Lem, let go of her."
"She broke my nose." Lem dumped her unceremoniously to the floor. "Who in seven hells is she supposed to be?"
"The Hand's daughter." Harwin went to one knee before her. "Arya Stark, of Winterfell. — George R R Martin

Perhaps you are a clockwork girl. Perhaps Mortmain's warlock father built you, and now Mortmain seeks the secret of how to create such a perfect facsimile of life when all he can build are hideous monstrosities. Perhaps all that beats beneath your chest is a heart made of metal.'
Tessa drew in a breath, feeling momentarily dizzy. His soft voice was so convincing, and yet--'No,' she said sharply. 'You forget, I remember my childhood. Mechanical creatures do not change or grow. Nor would that explain my ability.'
'I know,' said Will with a grin that flashed white in the darkness. 'I only wanted to see if I could convince you.'
Tessa looked at him steadily. 'I am not the one who has no heart. — Cassandra Clare

I don't consider myself as a bad person, on the whole I consider myself a good person, I'm good to my parents. I treat my girl right ,,, take her out and buy her stuff. And I go to church every Sunday, But I've decided that just once I wanna do a really bad thing. I mean a really seriously bad thing. 'cause, ya know, like, we're put on this earth with free will. We can choose to do this or that. We can choose to be good or bad. But sometimes I think most people are good and not bad only because they're scared they might go to jail or hell or someplace. Some guy once said: "Anything done out of fear has no moral value" Well, I think that's right. I figure the only way you can be truly good is if you've tried been good, and you've tried being good, and you've tried being bad, and being good feels better. — Alan Moore

I love you. On intense days. On good days. On long, exhausting work days. On really strange days when I find out that I have a long-lost brother. And most of all, on days when you make me smile, which happens to be every day I'm with you. You are not just a big-picture girl for me, Brooke Parker. You're the only picture. — Julie James

I never asked Tolstoy to write for me, a little colored girl in Lorain, Ohio. I never asked [James] Joyce not to mention Catholicism or the world of Dublin. Never. And I don't know why I should be asked to explain your life to you. We have splendid writers to do that, but I am not one of them. It is that business of being universal, a word hopelessly stripped of meaning for me. Faulkner wrote what I suppose could be called regional literature and had it published all over the world. That's what I wish to do. If I tried to write a universal novel, it would be water. Behind this question is the suggestion that to write for black people is somehow to diminish the writing. From my perspective there are only black people. When I say 'people,' that's what I mean. — Toni Morrison

We landed heavily on the sand. I threw off Khyber's embrace. "I can walk by myself."

"Good. You're heavier than usual. How does a girl manage to put on weight on a deserted island?"

"I'm just trying to keep you in shape," I replied sweetly. "Your tiny, pale-ass arms aren't impressing anyone."

"Sensitive, are we?"

But when a tree-sized stalagmite barred our way, Khyber swiftly strode forward to snap it in two. I laughed and brushed past him.

"I'm not the only one. — Heather Heffner

Dear Jesus, please get me out. Christ, please, please, please, Christ. If you only keep me from being killed I'll do anything you say. I believe in you and I'll tell everybody in the world that you are the only thing that matters. Please, please, dear Jesus' The shelling moved further up the line. We went to work on the trench and in the morning the sun came up and the day was hot and muggy and cheerful and quiet. The next night back at Mestre he did not tell the girl he went upstairs with at the Villa Rosa about Jesus. And he never told anybody. — Ernest Hemingway,

All my girlhood I always planned to do something big ... something constructive. It's queer what ambitious dreams a girl has when she is young. I thought I would sing before big audiences or paint lovely pictures or write a splendid book. I always had that feeling in me of wanting to do something worth while. And just think, Laura ... now I am eighty and I have not painted nor written nor sung."
"But you've done lots of things, Grandma. You've baked bread ... and pieced quilts ... and taken care of your children."
Old Abbie Deal patted the young girl's hand. "Well ... well ... out of the mouths of babes. That's just it, Laura, I've only baked bread and pieced quilts and taken care of children. But some women have to, don't they? ... But I've dreamed dreams, Laura. All the time I was cooking and patching and washing, I dreamed dreams. And I think I dreamed them into the children ... and the children are carrying them out ... doing all the things I wanted to and couldn't. — Bess Streeter Aldrich

People of all faiths are responsible to help the weak, the downtrodden, the sick, and the helpless, especially children. And of all the religions in the world, Christians are the only ones that are commanded not to judge, yet we do every day
gay people, ethnicities different from our own, people in mixed relationships, people with gifts they were born with, power they were born with, genetic mutations they were born with, illnesses of the brain and body. I've got a little girl's mother to save, and, yes, she's a witch. Are you gonna make it possible for me to save her? — Faith Hunter

If it makes you feel any better, he's been all sad doll lately too."
"What are you talking about, Chels?"
Chelsea stopped walking and stared at Violet.
"Jay. I'm talking about Jay, Vi. I thought you might want to know that you're not the only one who's hurting. He's been moping around school, making it hard to even look at him. He's messed up ... bad." Just like the other night in Violet's bedroom, something close to ... sympathy crossed Chelsea's face.
Violet wasn't sure how to respond.
Fortunately sympathetic Chelsea didn't stick around for long. She seemed to get a grip on herself, and like a switch had been flipped, the awkward moment was over and her friend was back, Chelsea-style: "I swear, every time I see him, I'm halfway afraid he's gonna start crying like a girl or ask to borrow a tampon or something. Seriously, Violet, it's disgusting. Really. Only you can make it stop. Please make it stop. — Kimberly Derting

He pauses, swipes a matchstick on a column. It bursts into flame. "I tell you, you must take risks in my studio." He finds a cigarette behind his ear and lights it. "I tell you not to be timid. I tell you to make the choices, make the mistakes, big, terrible, reckless mistakes, really screw it all up. I tell you it is the only way." An affirmative murmur. "I say this, yes, but I still see so many of you afraid to cut in." He begins to pace, slowly like a wolf, which is definitely his mirror animal. "I see what you are doing. When you leave yesterday, I go from work to work. You feel like Rambo maybe with the drills, the saws. You make lots of noise, lots of dust, but very few of you have found even this much" - he pinches two fingers together - "of your sculptures. Today this changes." He walks over to a short blond-haired girl. "May I, Melinda?" "Please, — Jandy Nelson

Letter to Bill Smith, 1921

Wish to hell I was going North when you men do. Doubt if I get up this summer-Jo Eezus (Jesus), sometimes I get to thinking about the Sturgeon and Black during the nocturnal and damn near go cuckoo. May have to give it up for something I want more but that does not keep me from loving it with everything I have. Dats de way tings are. Guy loves a couple of or three steams all his life and loves 'em better than anything in the world--falls in love with a girl and the goddamn streams can dry up for all he cares. Only the hell of it is that all that country has as bad a hold on me as ever--there's as much pull this spring as there ever was--and you know how it's always been--just don't think about it all daytime, but at night it comes and ruins me--and I can't go. — Ernest Hemingway,

But I knew no one. I was alone. No one cared. You might as well have left me to die."
"You didn't, did you?"
"Die? No, I didn't. No thanks to you. Now I know I can only depend on myself."
"Exactly." Natasha shrugged. "You're welcome."
Ava didn't respond.
Natasha sat down next to her. "Such Russian problems." She settled her back against the wall. "I know you're angry. Be as angry as you want. But no matter how you feel, we need to get out of here. Fair enough?"
"Why should I do anything you say?"
"Because you can trust me."
"Are you crazy? You're the one person I can't trust. You taught me not to trust you."
"No. I taught you not to trust anyone," Natasha said. "And that's something everyone has to learn. Especially every girl." She sounded as stubborn as Ava felt. — Margaret Stohl

She thought of her younger days, - the gleam which seemed always ahead, - of the vague allure which accomplishing something in the arts had always held for her. And now she was nearly fifty and she was not to know the fruition of any of those hopes.
"Oh Will, I am so disappointed," she said to that invisible comrade who was only spirit and memory. "I can only feel those things, - not do them."
Isn't motherhood, itself, an accomplishment?
She knew that she made her own answer, and yet it gave her a sense of satisfaction and peace. Will might said it. It sounded like him.
"But I've made so many mistakes ... Will ... even in that."
You are a good mother, Abbie-girl."
Yes, it gave her a sense of peace and comfort. — Bess Streeter Aldrich