Anne Eliot Quotes

Someone should give them all an A+ for chewing, Vere whispered.

We need to meet and flesh out the details of our ... you know ... whatever. I don't know what to call it. Our contract."
"I was thinking the same thing. But can we call it our epic summer romance? Contract sounds so stuffy." He smiles again.

Pretend-dating Gray Porter is going to be like pretend-dating a rainbow. Everyone looks at him all the time.

I bet girls never agonize about texts like this.

I swear you can see in Juliet's eyes that she knows she's going to die because of how she feels for this guy.
I think, this scene is where the true tragedy lives. It's not because they both die in the end. The tragedy is all right there ... in the very beginning. When he smiles at her. When she instantly forgets.
Forgets how dangerous he is.
You can't blame her for how it plays out. Romeo's so amazing in this movie - what he says to her - how he looks at her. She's obviously drowning in butterflies.
I know for a fact now, butterflies like that can be horrible, beautiful things.

*Rose petals, doves, and the sinister cherubs make a big reappearance, shouting, "Ready. Aim. Fire."*

Say something, Jess. Say anything.
And just when I'm about to think of what I should say next, my mouth goes into whacked overdrive like I'm possessed. "The graphic art in Clone Wars is my favorite," I say. "I love how they drew the characters. You know - how everything looks so angular and - "
My words tangle and freeze when my brain finally arrives to shut it down.
Say something but NOT THAT, you psycho!
"Clone Wars. Love it, do I? Yesss." He's actually responded in a Yoda voice!
I blink.
His eyes are kind, sparkling with laughter and still, all too green. Yoda green!

Jenna turned and shot her another worried look. Her tone was ultra soothing. Yeah. I hear you. And I'm head over heels with Harry Potter and
Peeta Mellark. Stay with me. Okay? I'm right here. I feel your love. Now feel mine and start walking.

Just be where you are. Right now. Be in this moment only. That's all that really counts ... One breath at a time. It's all we can control ...

Sometimes different is not better,

Adorkable. It's in its own category.

I raise an eyebrow, working to achieve the right tone of intellectual superiority. If you've never read the Twilight books or the Hunger Games series you wouldn't understand. Not. One. Bit. They are complex stories. Big words. Probably beyond you.

I pass off a few more résumés and jet away from her and that cinnamon smell, reserving the last paper in my hand so I can finish reading it. "Whoa - hello. What's this?" I mumble, staring at the paper. "Jess Jordan's How to be Normal Checklist, by Kika Jordan? Who's Kika?" I laugh.

The way her face has turned whiter than the ice at the sports complex, I think this paper is no joke.

"Kika's my little sister. Hand that over!"

Do the right thing. Like she said, this is private information. None of my business.

Only, it could possibly be my business.

Indirectly. Not her fault…not mine…

Jess's eyes have turned wild, exposed. "She made the list for me - as a joke. It's revenge. Last week I made her one on personal hygiene called: How NOT to Repel All Mankind.

With two small touches and a smile, he's killed my brain.

Without another word, I turn my back and start for my Jeep, wondering if he can hear how loudly he's made my heart pound.
"Okay then, see you after school, Jess. It's a date. We'll have some fun! Good luck on your afternoon final!"
He sounds like a stupid megaphone. When I don't answer and hunch my shoulders, his low laugh adds a trail of goose bumps coursing down my neck.

I hop onto the stage and joke-sing: "The Phaaaanntom of the Opera is there, innnnnside your mind." I attack the curtain with a flourish and sing on, "innnnside your mind.

You're the luckiest person in the whole world to have already figured out what you love. And you'll be, quite possibly, the stupidest person in the world - if you don't hold on to it.

My heart races and I look away. "Well I care. So, write it down. For nine weekends and eight thousand dollars, what's yours is mine including your friends." I throw in a little sarcastic eye flutter. "We're going to be so head-over-heels-in-love. I can't wait to see how romantic you are!"
"Oh no. I refuse to be your kind of bumper-sticker-romantic. Don't mistake me for Mr. Darcy."

I gasp. "You don't know Hunger Games or Forks, Washington, but you know Mr. Darcy? Start talking."

"Crap! My grandmother's a fan. She's tortured me since birth with Mr. Darcy. Thanks to her DVD collection, I can quote Jane Austen faster than the Elmo song."

I laugh, surprised again. "Prove it."

"Elizabeth, daaarling!" He's launched into a breathless English accent. "I love, love, love you, and I never want to be parted from you from this day forward. Pardon me, whilst I puke…"

"No way!" I beam. "Let the contract state that I want the Mr. Darcy accent once a week!" I can't help but laugh again because he's shaking his head and laughing back.

With a lightning quick glance at me first, he reads one bumper sticker: Member: BBB. Boys in Books are Better?

Be all the dork that I can be?" he tried.
Her turn. "Hamlet: To dork, or not to dork, that is the question." She smiled proudly, thinking of another. "The apparel 'oft proclaims the man!"
He chuckled. "Hamlet again, but this time with an English accent: Though this be madness, yet there is method in it.

He shrugged, working to make her understand. There's whole YouTube montages playing still shots of my butt to music. I don't take credit for it. My mom's been paying a trainer for years. Oh, and my six-pack won a Fan's Choice Award called the SixPackAttack. Three years running.

I repel all guys. Now I have proof. PROOF.
Wait till Jenna hears. Maybe I need a different deodorant?
She ran her tongue over her teeth. Or toothpaste?

Mr. Roth. The Devil is holding your daughter's hand. Now would be a great time to step up and whack the kid with your fire poker

If you don't want my services, then it's only fair you cut me loose so I can make another girl or two happy this summer. Or three." He shifts my papers into a neater pile.
"What will they do once I take you off the market?" I ask. "I can only imagine the poor girls wandering around like a lost herd of sheep all summer, wondering where you went." I risk another glance at the staring girls and shudder. "Do they even blink? Baa. Baa. Baa.

I'd rather be in Forks? I shop the HOB? What do these even mean?!

After all the work and lies - and lotion - it took to get me into this parking lot, I'm not going home without more success to add to my list.

I love it. I mean – it's great. You – how beautiful you look. It threw me off. And you have no idea how much I love peach pie, a-la-mode. Sorry… sue me, dock my pay, but damn, girl. You've turned me into a stuttering fool.

It's really hard to deny a kid who's father has passed away. We all just wanted you to be happy so we messed that up. Your career wasn't about the money. Not at first. It gave you both something big to do so you could stay busy and forget how much you missed your dad." His heart twisted, and he whispered, "When I think of him ... I don't remember his face, but I do remember how much it hurt to have him simply there one day and gone the next ... just gone." Nan nodded. "Imagine how your mom felt. Your dad was the love of her life.

He shrugged happily. Let's make plaid, canvas and compasses my absolute trademarks. Dustin McHugh. All plaid. All canvas. All the time. And I'm never lost. What say you, dork judge?

Relentlessly, I read on: Number one: Make at least two friends your own age. Number two: Go places besides your room. Number three: Get boyfriend. Number four: Make sure Mom and Dad notice numbers one through three.

What does disabled mean anyhow?

Can two trapped people help each other, or will they simply bring each other more heart ache?

He's so good at his job, that I've fallen for him, the mirage of him being my boyfriend, all of it. Like everyone else. Like an idiot.

I'm living in fiction. It's perfectly okay to be in love with any and all fictional boyfriends, even if they aren't yours.

She kept her voice steady in an attempt to play this cool. "Uh, Mom? Any time you want to step in? Permanently ground him? Take away his car privileges and give them to me?"
"Uh, Mom," Charlie spun faster, mimicking Vere's higher voice with a girly voice of his own. "Any time you want to step in and help Vere with her man skills? I've decided to launch her into popular society.

I hope he approves of my carefully chosen Geekstuff.com outfit: the Ultimate Long-Safari-Skirt. Color: Puce. Sale price: $42.95. I've combined it with the Peter Pan Office Shirt, color: bright-white. Price $34.00. An item that has never been marked up or down for the past two years. A point I can't wait to bring up during my interview.

Lucky. Lucky. Lucky girl.
Nothing happened.
Nothing happened.

Ignoring Gray Porter is like ignoring an elephant in a tut. A really hot elephant in a tutu ... a very manly tutu. -Jess

Yeah…uh, about Facebook…all that social networking. I don't have it. My parents check my sister's emails, Facebook, and texts like stalkers. In order to get our cell phones, Kika and I had to agree to the Jordan Household No Privacy Act. I do have a school email account. But Facebook and Twitter…if you're me…there's no point. You'd be my only 'friend' besides my family.

You have my word. I won't let anyone-anything hurt you. This will work out. It will.

Insta-love never works, you know that.

Charlie snorted. Sure. Insta-friends with one of the world's most famous rock stars. ZERO weirdness. Check. And you're not my type either, dude.

Wait. What? You kissed at the bonfire?" Ellen flushes and nods. "Seriously? You didn't tell me? What kind of crap best-friend rule book did you read, Ellen, because the one I've got has way different chapters as to how information is supposed to be handed over.

You're calling me beautiful now? Throwing out more compliments, just when you swore you'd never. Do you want me to become permanently stuck up?

Is this a habit of yours?" he asks.
"What?"
"Dropping stuff whenever you first see me? It's kind of cute. Flattering," he adds, straightening while easily holding all of my stuff in his giant arms.
I've recovered enough to roll my eyes. "Maybe the habit is connected to your urge to rifle through my private things every time you see me?"
"It's possible. Your stuff is so randomly interesting." He eyes my science kit and then scans through the pile of papers in his hands. "You got any other lists that need checking off? College tuition aside, I'm also trying to save for a new car." He laughs.

And you do, don't you? Love me just a little? Because I'll say it again. Right now, to your face. I straight up love you, Jess Jordan. I'll shout it if it will help plead my case. But I have to at least get that point across before one more minute passes.

But what if the promises means life and death? What about bliss? Saving your soul? If all that is at stake, then promises need to be broken.

I'll make sure you forget every guy but me, Jess Jordan. And that's a promise I mean to keep.
Oh, that voice.

First. Don't get drunk. Don't smoke anything."
"Duh. What are you, my dad? That's easy. I don't drink. We aren't even twenty-one. I seriously doubt anyone will be drinking at the Hodjwick house. And who smokes cigarettes anymore? So gross."
Dustin shook his head. "You are so backwards. I wasn't talking about cigarettes, and if you truly believe no one will be drinking at a high school party on a Saturday night then you are too much of a baby to even leave your own house.

IN A WORLD WHERE BUNNIES RUN WILD

Again, what if you and I are meant to break all of the unwritten and written rules?

What? You seriously don't believe me? " He pulled halfheartedly at his shirt so she could catch a glimpse of a perfectly flat, washboard stomach. "Want to give it a fist tap? It's solid."
"No! No. And no!!" She gasped. "Oh. My. God! Keep that shirt down. OHMYGOD." She choked out an embarrassed sounding laugh.

I could be tiny and near the ground, unable to move very fast or far, but with a simple lift of a camera, that lens let me go places I couldn't even imagine.

Yo QT. r u there? I dart Kika a glance. "What does that mean? He called me a Q-tip?" Kika laughs and sits next to me. "Read it out loud. It will make more sense." "Yo-Q-T ru there. Q ... T ... ?" "Q

Vere spoke again, "You want us to hide this six-foot-three, positively gorgeous, famous rock star - one who has sports-drink blue eyes BY THE WAY - and who is absolutely PERFECT looking, at Palmer Divide High? In this town? In my junior class?"
"Yes," Mrs. Roth answered. "Why is it such a difficult concept for you to grasp?"
"Because guys who look like that." She pointed a finger at him. "Do not come from this town. In addition to the face, he's too tall, and he's got the posture of some Russian - ballerina! And did you not notice his voice?"
"What's wrong with my voice?" Hunter frowned.
"It's all LOW and, SUPER-MANLY-AMAZING," she modulated her voice down, trying to sound like him.
Charlie cracked up, and Hunter had to bury his own laugh.

Jenna still called it: 'The Incident That Can Not be Named'. As in, Vere's personal Voldemort.

So that's a make-up kiss? Let's have another fight soon.

I grab my bag and open the door, trying to ignore him. But ignoring Gray Porter is like ignoring an elephant in a tutu. A really hot elephant-in a very manly tutu.

I'm talking head over heels, down on my
knees, from the bottom of my heart, IN love,
with you, Vere. That kiss blew me away. I
know you felt something too - something
more for me. Don't you?

I know I'm acting crazy but I'm in love with this girl. Major love. And I have no idea what to do about it, so it's messing with my sanity.

Everyone has scars, they just aren't as visible as yours

Irish-sparkle-fish,

Please don't tell me you drive with your eyes closed.

I have no limitations, Miss Brown. Please. Stop.

Nice of you to care, gnome girl. He tapped his cheeks, grinning now.

Maybe because he's already been in my dreams for so long, it feels to me as though we've always been together.

If one fish nibbles my toes I'm going to lose all testosterone and scream like a little girl in front of you. They won't will they?

she thinks we‟re both of the same species, but vultures don‟t make friends with
hummingbird

The soft trembling feel of her lips sends lightning down my spine. And I soar, fly, and die of happiness all in the same second.

So…you're not going to tell me what they mean? C'mon. What's the Hob? Why Forks?"

When I stand, I switch to my blatantly rude, you're-an-idiot tone. This is the one that always pisses off my mom. To be sure he's not missing my insult this time, I also cross my arms and speak very slowly like I'm speaking to a toddler. "The Hob is from The Hunger Games books. It's the underground market where the characters trade food and information. Forks would be the town in Twilight. The setting. In boy-speak, Forks equals the planet Tatooine for Star Wars. You know - Anakin Skywalker's childhood home? Or are you not familiar with any global blockbusters? I suppose I could use Sesame Street or Pokémon for a reference - if it would help you understand better?"

Bam. That should seal it. I couldn't have sounded more like a total bitch.

He nods. "No, I've got it. My bedroom was Tatooine for all of third and fourth grade. Boy-speak…that's funny." He laughs again, and it sounds warm and - and - not at all offended!

Name me Edward, or Peeta, or Prince Charming, and I swear - I'll quit.

She stopped at a red light and turned to face him. "Look. You must know your eyes are truly distracting, and you keep LOOKING at me. I've also never talked to anyone who sounds like a movie trailer announcer before. Your voice is so cool. I'm sure you know that. It's probably part of your famousness. But here in this car it's unsettling, because I have this sensation you might suddenly begin sentences with some dramatic start." She lowered her voice. "like ... IN A WORLD, FAR, FAR AWAY ...

Won't be able to live with myself if I don't at least try to convince you of my feelings. Not after that kiss. Not after how it's rearranged my whole heart.