Katharine McGee Quotes

Her arm was outstretched, as though she were reaching for someone she loved, or maybe to ward off some unspoken danger, or maybe even in regret over something she had done. The girl had certainly made enough mistakes in her too-short lifetime. But she couldn't have known that they would all come crashing down around her tonight.
After all, no one goes to a party expecting to die.

There was a downpour coming; Avery could feel it. The wind was already gaining strength, tearing out the last of her hairpins, whipping her dress close to her body. The air was heavy with the scent of rain. Avery's thoughts circled frantically in her mind, pressing so hard she thought she would burst.
A falcon that had been perched farther along the railing turned a beady eye on her, curious. Avery watched it unfurl its wings and take off. She felt a sudden kinship with the bird, the way it flew screaming into the sky like a wild thing. She wished she could follow it straight into the gathering storm.

Maybe happy endings were real, as long as you understood that they weren't endings, but steps on the road.

That's why I went away - to escape the way I felt about you. I kept hoping that if I just ran far enough, eventually I'd figure out a way to stop loving you."
"I'm glad it didn't work."
"Of course it didn't work." He smiled. "There's no way it ever could.

Sometimes love and chaos are the same thing.

How foolish she'd been, to think that a broken heart would kill her, but it was how she'd felt.

Writers got to pick the endings of their novels, but Beatrice wasn't living a story. She was living history, and history went on forever.

A smile played around her lips, as if she knew a million secrets that no one could ever guess, which she probably did.

Relationships never make sense from the outside; the only people qualified to weigh in on them are the people in them.

That was the thing about success, it could be even more draining than failure.

Real love comes from creating a family together, from facing life together -- with all its messes and surprises and joys.

All she knew was that one day she woke up and her love for him was simply there, like newly fallen snow. Maybe it had been there all along.

Sorry isn't a magic eraser that undoes whatever wrong thing you did! You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be the way it was, not when people have been hurt!

Beatrice is going to be queen someday." Samantha didn't sound resentful, just pensive.
"And what are you going to be?" Nina asked, curious.
Samantha grinned. "Everything else.

Maybe that was just the way love went - it was something that happened to you, and the best preparation you could hope for was the chance to take a deep breath before the wave of it crashed above you and you were in over your head.

Her mind was jumbled, everything blurred together and confused; but from the tangled knot of her feelings she had extracted a single crucial thread

I've missed you, Eris. You and me, we kind of deserve each other, don't we?

Leda was very still, and very small, as Watt slid into the bed and curled around her. He listened to the ragged rise and fall of her breath. There was an excited nervousness spiking up and down her body, and Watt knew that he was the cause of it, and he realized he was glad.
She turned around to face him, so they were both lying on their sides, twin silhouettes in the darkness. The only thing that separated them was a shaft of moonlight slicing through the open window. Still, Watt waited.

It seemed like no time at all had passed, like it was summer again and she and Cord were playing their games - and yet everything was different. It was like an echo of that time, a little less sharp, a little less thrilling. They had both changed too much.

It was late now; so late that it could once again be called early - that surreal, enchanted, twilight hour between the end of a party and the unfurling of a new day. The hour when reality grows dim and hazy at the edges, when nearly anything seems possible.

Disengage," she whispered, pulling the red tab on her wristband. Immediately Avery's weapons were rendered inactive and she became invisible to everyone in the augmented reality game, able to do nothing except walk back to the staging room until she reactivated. It was like she wasn't even there, like she'd suddenly erased herself. Which was exactly how she felt.

Who said anything about forgetting? The point of forgiveness is to recognize that someone has hurt you, and to still love them in spite of it.

She knew this was reckless; it was dangerous, but like all dangerous things, it had a deep, thrilling undercurrent that was richer and better and more alive than anything safe.

Rich girls never left something expensive on the ground, unless they'd been the one to toss it there.

She couldn't trust anyone in the world but herself, but then again, Leda never really had.

All good storytellers study psychology ... Novelists, filmmakers, even actors. You have to know the rules of human behavior before you can make your characters break them.

No one should have to confess to murder alone. Haven't you heard? That's what best friends are for.

Maybe that's all that praying was, she thought, just wishing good outcomes on other people.

Her body was reacting instinctively to his nearness, like a plant that had been too long in the dark and was finally exposed to sunlight.

Didn't you feel me, loving you from across the ocean?

She nodded, breaking every promise to herself, loving him.

He didn't know what it was like, wanting something you could never have; how impossible it was to un-want it once you'd let the feeling in.

Only by engaging with the past can we avoid repeating it.

Love and trust aren't the same thing.

I swore that I wouldn't kiss you again. Obviously I can't keep my promises, even to myself. Not when it comes to you.

At the mention of children, Connor halted his steps. For a moment Beatrice thought he was going to storm off, turn away from her and never look back.
Instead he fell to one knee before her. Time went momentarily still. In some dazed part of her mind Beatrice remembered Teddy, kneeling stiffly at her feet as he swore to be her liege man. This felt utterly different. Even kneeling, Connor looked like a warrior, every line of his body radiating a tensed power and strength.
"It kills me that I don't have more to offer you," he said roughly. "I have no lands, no fortune, no title. All I can give you is my honor, and my heart. Which already belongs to you."
She would have fallen in love with him right then, if she didn't already love him so fiercely that every cell of her body burned with it.
"I love you, Bee. I've loved you for so long I've forgotten what it felt like not to love you."
"I love you, too." Her eyes stung with tears.
"I get that you have to marry someone before your dad dies. But you can't marry Teddy Eaton."
She watched as he fumbled in his jacket for something - had he bought a ring? She thought wildly - but what he pulled out instead was a black Sharpie. Still kneeling before her, he slid the diamond engagement ring off Beatrice's finger and tucked it in the pocket of her jacket. Using the Sharpie, he traced a thin loop around the skin of Beatrice's finger, where the ring had been.
"I'm sorry it isn't a real ring, but I

She kept looking at the dark stretch of water below them, the bridges spanning the space, dotted with lights. Party guests moved back and forth across in a dance of scattered shadows. She wondered how many of them were with the person they loved tonight - and how many of them were alone, like her.

Samantha, criticism is a good thing. It means you've fought for something.

If Rylin had learned anything by now, it was that in real life, you never quite knew what was coming. You had to take the bad with the good. You had to take a chance, hold your breath, and trust people. After all, the fun of real life stories is that they're still being written.

Tell no one your secrets, Daphne's mom always said, but make them think that you have. It creates the illusion of intimacy.

All of them preoccupied with their own small worries, clutching at their impossible dreams.

Sam had long ago resolved that if she couldn't be beautiful, she should at the very least be interesting.

Where are we headed?" she asked, stepping with Cord onto the monorail back toward the Tower.
"I was thinking dinner," he said. "Are you hungry?"
Rylin looked at him, her brow furrowed, but for once he didn't sound teasing. "It's only ten a.m.," she pointed out.
He grinned. "Not where we're going.

Elect the king or queen - what a funny concept. Everyone knew that elections only worked for judges and Congress. Making the executive branch pander to the people, go out begging for votes - that could only end in disaster. That structure would attract the wrong sort of people: power-hungry people with twisted agendas.

When she finally lifted herself up, she was Princess Beatrice no longer. She had become Her Majesty Beatrice Regina, Queen of America, and long may she reign.