Zara White Quotes & Sayings
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Top Zara White Quotes

But I do not fit well into any social mold whatsoever. That is not appealing to others. — Jessica Park

There is often variations of evil on both sides of the war. What we have to decide is whether or not regime change is a good idea. It's what the neoconservatives have wanted. It's what the vast majority of those on the stage want. — Rand Paul

Oh." I touch my cheeks. "You licked me."
He laughs and leans over, giving a tiny tongue swipe to my hand. "You're very lickable."
I try to hit him. He laughs harder and grabs my hands.
"No fair! Mere mortal against werewolf," I complain.
"Fine."
He lets go, but first he kisses my fingers, each of them. I sigh happily. — Carrie Jones

Okay, I thought wolves had packs. Do you have a pack?"
"Not in the traditional sense."
"Sorry, Nick, but when it comes to werewolves, I don't know what the traditional sense is."
"I don't run with other wolves."
I nod. I wait. I finally give up and say, "So you run with . . ."
He winces. "Coyotes. But they have some wolf DNA."
It's hard not to smile. "You are alpha at least, right?"
"Of course I'm alpha." He almost growls at me. — Carrie Jones

Quite simply, I was in love with New York. I do not mean "love" in any colloquial way, I mean that I was in love with the city, the way you love the first person who ever touches you and you never love anyone quite that way again. I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. — Joan Didion

I'm in the camp that needs to discover and take risks, sometimes it's with the promise of something special and new, sometimes it's to stay awake, either way it's much more stressful with all the uncertainty but worth the pain in the end. — Karen O

Hands grab me, steady me. I jerk back, but they are surprisingly gentle. He doesn't smile as I turn to see his face. He just stands there, letting me inspect him. He's tall with a wide forehead and dark blond hair that's cut short. His green eyes are deeply set beneath that forehead. His lips are wide and rugged like the rest of him. His hands have huge knuckles like he's a boxer or arthritic or hits walls. He looks like he did when he pulled me out of the car, but stronger, taller somehow. He must be completely healed. He looks my age and he looks good, like the guy in high school that everyone, even the teachers, fall in love with. — Carrie Jones

You remember it all now," Hatcher said, and it wasn't a question.
"Yes," she said. She was beyond weeping for the child she once was. "It is, more or less, what you would expect. Except for the part where I escaped. Nobody expected that. — Christina Henry

It's why we close the eyes, too. The dead shouldn't have to look on the lewd aliveness of the living. — Glen Duncan

Lawrence's suggestion for a starter wardrobe: a black dress, a fitted black jacket, black pants, a black skirt, a camel-colored skirt, a white blouse, a trendy-looking cardigan in a color (red could be good, for instance), several cool, inexpensive blouses (from places such as H&M or Zara) that pick up or work with the color of the cardigan and will go with your pants and skirts. For shoes, go for black heels and a pair of colored ones (they will make one of your all-black outfits look totally fab). Then build from there. — Kate White

If you have been wise and successful I congratulate you. Unless you are unable to forget how successful you have been, then I pity you. — Napoleon Hill

How does that put me in danger?" Nick asks. It's the first question he's asked the entire time. Devyn, however, has been Mr. Nonstop Wondering Question Guy.
"Because . . ." I don't know how to say it, struggle for the words. "Because you and I are a thing and you're a threat."
"You better believe I'm a threat," Nick growls. The entire car seems to shake with his energy. Little hairs on my arm lift and vibrate.
"He's going macho again," Dev says, totally nonchalantly, while he unlocks the door.
"He's always going macho," Is adds. "It must be the wolf thing."
"I am not going macho. I am always macho," Nick says, and for a moment the tension ratchets down, but then his face muscles become rigid again. — Carrie Jones

I push my thigh against his. "Well, thank God."
"Thank God what?" he asks. His hand slowly rubs up and down the place where my shoulder meets my arm. It makes me good shiver.
"That I don't have a neck brace. It's hard to rock a neck brace, especially if we're still going to that dance."
He leans in and kisses my nose. "If anyone could do it, you could."
I tilt my head so our lips meet.
"Hormonal ones, I am right here. Me. The old lady otherwise known as your grandmother," Betty says.
"Sorry. He's just irresistible," I say, settling back against him.
"Well, try to resist the irresistible," Betty says knowingly as the truck bumps over a pothole. — Carrie Jones

Have you noticed the weather? asked Thomas. All turned to look for the weather. — Donald Barthelme

We all line up except for this guy in a wheelchair, Devyn. He smiles at me when I line up, introduces himself. He has a movie star smile, just white teeth and charisma, big eyes, dark skin. He'd be perfect looking if he didn't have such a large nose, but the truth is it looks good on him, natural and powerful. He winks at Issie, who blushes.
"You can do it, Is," he says.
She rolls her eyes, twists her lip, and says, "As long as I don't pass out."
"If you pass out, I'll put you in my lap and wheel you across the finish line," he says, and it somehow isn't sleazy because you can tell by his eyes how much he cares about Issie. I instantly like him.
She blushes worse. Her face looks like she's already sprinted a mile. — Carrie Jones

....when it comes to finding out about new jobs - or, for that matter, new information, or new ideas - "weak ties" are always more important than strong ties. — Mark Granovetter

When love is unkind, it is not love anymore. — Neil Diamond

My eyes meet his eyes.
"You were a jerk," I say.
His hands move to my cheeks. "I'm sorry."
I pull away, but I can only go an inch before I bump into lacrosse sticks, not that I really want to go any farther. "Nope. No way. You do not get to kiss me yet."
He pouts. — Carrie Jones

Nick spreads cream cheese on my bagel for me because it's hard to do with one hand. You need to hold the bagel and everything.
"You are the nicest boyfriend ever," I tell him and kiss his cheek.
"Gag," Devyn says.
"You're just jealous," Nick teases him and points his plastic knife at Devyn. "Which is ridiculous because you are the star of the school now that the wheelchair is totally gone. Everyone is talking about you."
"Star of the school?" Devyn asks. He takes a swig of Gatorade.
"All the girls." Nick gestures to the girls giggling behind them. "They like miracles. It's sexy. Remember how much play Jay Dahlberg got when he came back from being abducted?" He does not add by pixies because he does not have to.
"Really?" Devyn does this cheesy and really fake eyebrow wiggle thing so he looks like some sleezy porn dog. — Carrie Jones

When I sing, I don't want them to see that my face is black. I don't want them to see that my face is white. I want them to see my soul. And that is colorless. — Marian Anderson

Sometimes, there are monsters inside of us all, even in the ones we think are the most good." ~Zara White — Carrie Jones

You like me?" I repeat, because, well, I want to be really, really sure that I heard him right. This is not the sort of thing you want to get wrong.
He nods and says, "Very much."
"You like me very much?"
He lets go of my hands and touches my check. "Too much."
"Too much?" Trying to keep my voice calm, I say, "No such thing. — Carrie Jones

I want kids to know that it is okay to make a change in order to feel better about themselves. — Soleil Moon Frye

Then my cell phone buzzes again. I can't quite get it out of my pocket because my arm is so bloody. Astley reaches down and pulls it out for me.
"You're blushing," he says.
"You just reached in my pocket. It's kind of intimate."
He smiles a wicked smile and hands me the phone. "There is candy in here as well."
"Skittles," I explain. "I like them. — Carrie Jones

He laughs and pulls out a big Ziploc bag of something dark and round. Cookies!
I lunge forward. "Are these - ?"
"Chocolate with peanut butter chips," he finishes for me.
I keep staring at his lips, but I slide open the baggie. "I love these! My mom always made these."
"I know."
"How do you know?"
"You told me once."
He sits down with me and before I can get too heart fluttery he pulls out a cookie and lifts it toward my mouth, teasing me. "Do you want it?"
I open my lips. He slides the cookie in a little bit. I chomp down. It melts on my tongue. "It is sooo good. — Carrie Jones

And do you admit that you have a bad temper, a cute car, and a nice girlfriend?"
I hold my breath.
"I have an amazing girlfriend," he says. And then he kisses me, which is, you have to admit, the perfect boyfriend thing to do. The kiss is soft and speckling like star promises in a night sky. I stretch into it, wishing that I could hold onto it forever, even though I know that kisses can't last forever - can they? — Carrie Jones

I meet his eyes. They are deep and almost mesmerizing. Did I say deep before? Yeah, right. That's not it. They have a pull to them, like currents, like Velcro or something, totally captivating, like when you see a convertible flipped over on the highway and there are body bags and you don't want to look but you look because you can't look, because you can't not look, because you are just riveted and . . .
Stop. Just stop. — Carrie Jones

We'll fight them. We took down my dad. We've taken down so many since then. We'll take down these jokesters too."
"I will never let anything happen to you," Nick growls into my hair. "I will die before you get hurt again. So help me God, Zara. I will die."
"Me too."
"What?"
"I will die before I let anyone hurt you or Issie or Dev or Gram or . . ." I stop and pull my head away from his chest so I can look up at him. "This list is getting kind of long and melodramatic, isn't it?"
He laughs. His hand moves slowly up my spine. He starts leaning down for a kiss. "Yeah. It is. — Carrie Jones

Zara White, since when has love ever not mattered? — Carrie Jones

There's something in every atheist, itching to believe, and something in every believer, itching to doubt. — Mignon McLaughlin

I'd rather not have a moment when I'm known for my looks; being funny and interesting lasts longer. — Kelly Ripa

I sob and clutch my stuffed bunny. Nick leaps up on my bed and squashes his body against mine, nuzzling my face with his muzzle until I lift it enough for him to lick away my tears.
While the pixie rages downstairs, I wrap my arms around Nick's furry body and cry into him. My shoulders quake from the effort of it. He whimpers once or twice and tries to lick my face some more, but mostly he watches the door, and eventually I stop with the pathetic sobbing stuff and just keep crying. — Carrie Jones

The world must be filled with unsuccessful musical careers like mine, and it's probably a good thing. We don't need a lot of bad musicians filling the air with unnecessary sounds. Some of the professionals are bad enough. — Andy Rooney

Nick leans down and kisses my eyelids. "Loving you, Zara, is a full-time job. It's a great job, don't get me wrong. It's the best job in the universe. But it is not easy, because you tend to . . ."
"Get hurt?" Betty suggests. "Find trouble? Pass out? Break arms?"
"All of the above." Nick laughs.
My hand finds Nick's wrist and I grab onto its thickness. "You know, I'm the patient here. Where's the bedside manner? Where's the sympathy?"
"Zara, sympathy is just a good excuse to buy greeting cards and make sorry eyes and secretly gloat over how glad you are that you aren't the person whose crap is hanging out there for the world to see," Betty says. — Carrie Jones

Nick stands behind me. He puts a hand on my waist.
I yank in a breath. The world seems to swirl around me.
"Are you going to faint?" he asks.
I back into him and blurt, "But you're so cute. Werewolves aren't supposed to be cute. Vampires are, I think. They are in the movies. But the werewolves are pretty much ugly and they wear leather jackets and are all dirty with these monster sideburns."
"That's all you have to say? That I'm cute?" He takes a stray piece of my hair and curls it around his fingers. "Most people faint or shriek or never talk to me again. — Carrie Jones

And this time Zara White," he says, " this time it is my turn to rescue you." - Astley — Carrie Jones