Lissa Price Quotes

You don't know what it's like. You were probably never ugly.

What defines me? Skin? I hope I'm more than that. Than this. That I am what I think, what I believe. What I feel.

It's like you are a car, a nice car that hadn't been washed for a year.
And then you got a wash and wax and all the trimmings.
You're sparkling, but you're still the same great car.

Beauty isn't about meeting some holo-star standard, it's about being you. Because looks come and go. But nobody else can be you.

Everybody wants to be someone else," he says "Do you blame them?" he asks.

He had the face of a floating astronaut who had lost his tether and had only one chance to grab a lifeline or forever drift away into endless black. I knew that feeling, the sense of panic that stretched time, turning seconds into years, and the deep pain that came from being hurt by not one person but many, a gang of bullies that expanded into a neighborhood and then into a community, until you questioned the whole world.

That close, his eyes made the world disappear. He smelled clean. Like summers before the war. Like sanctuary.

No one ever complained about a fat brain. No one ever accused their brain of being too short or too tall, too wide or too narrow. Or ugly. It either worked or it didn't, and mine worked just fine.

But I've got a gun," she said, twirling it on two fingers.
"A gun with bullets is worse than no gun at all.

Falling apart wasn't an option.

You wouldn't want to be me, Callie. Can you imagine hating your own body? I'm a prisoner inside it.

Would you like to be young again? Play any kind of sport you used to? All day long, with no soreness the next day?"
"Who Wouldn't?

I knew that feeling, the sense of panic that stretched time, turning seconds into years, and the deep pain that came from being hurt by not one person but many, a gang of bullies that expanded into a neighborhood and then into a community, until you questioned the whole world. And your last thought, as you stretch your arm until your fingers are inches from that lifeline, is how if you survive, you'll find a way to help fix what was broken, so you can say that yes, you want to be part of the world again.

This is so ... " I can't find the word.
"Wonderful? Amazing?" the Ender nurse offers.
"Bizarre," I say as I watch the lips of the Starter move in the mirror.

I need you to go talk to a girl who may have some information about Emma."
"Where is she?"
"Someplace you're not going to want to go."
( ... )
"I give up. Where?"
"Institution 37."
I felt a hitch in my breathing. I leaned back against the wall.
"Could I pick hell instead?

Take your pick. Be Somebody ... else.

It's just the beginning

eventually we'll be old and wrinkled. Like everybody. But we'll look a lot better if we're happy inside. If we used our brains and our talents instead of stressing over what someone else defines as 'pretty.'

Did Cinderella ever consider fessing up to the prince, that night she was enjoying herself in the fancy ball gown? Did she even think of telling him, oh, by the way, Prince, the coach isn't mine, I'm really a filthy little barefoot servant on borrowed time? No. She took her moment. And then went quietly away after midnight.