Meg Cabot Quotes

What's the point? was my attitude. We're all just going to die and then NOT be let on the boat.

There was a DJ who stayed up for eleven days straight, the longest recorded period of time anyone has ever gone without sleep, and he started playing nothing by Phil Collins, and that's how they knew it was time to call the ambulance.

It's so much easier to walk away than it is to have to explain to someone that you never want to see them again.

He said only, "Bad people. Some very bad people."
Uncle Chris's mouth flattened into a small, thin line. Then he nodded crisply. He knew all about bad people. John was speaking in a language he understood.
"Is it drugs?" Uncle Chris asked, in a hushed voice.
I looked at John, in his black jeans and T-shirt, with his long dark hair, and studded leather wristbands. I could see why Uncle Chris had asked. To someone of his generation, it would have to be either drugs, or…well, a rock band.
John gave me a barely perceptible shake of his head. No, his eyes begged me. Don't.
"Yes," I said, glancing back at Uncle Chris. "It's drugs."
John's gaze instantly rolled towards the sky.
"Piercey," Uncle Chris said, exhaling gustily and dragging a hand through his hair. "We talked about this. I thought you were the one I didn't have to worry about."
We had talked about something along those lines, I remembered, outside this very house, the night before Jade was killed. But it had been about Uncle Chris giving me driving lessons. I didn't recall drugs being mentioned.
"Well," I said. "Things are a little messed up right now. That's why we're here. I wanted to make sure Alex is okay."
"Alex?" Uncle Chris threw me a look of alarm. "Don't tell me Alex is doing drugs."
I could see now why John had been against lying about the drugs thing. I'd thought it would simplify things. But it was only making them worse.
"He's not," I said quickly.

Hey!" Lauren Moffat's voice, sounding noticeably irritated, floated up to us. "What-ew! What's in my hair?"

We all three ducked beneath our table so Lauren couldn't see us if she realized what was happening and looked up. I could see her between the slits of the fencing around the balcony, but I knew she couldn't see me. She was shaking out her hair. Becca, crouching across from me, had to put her hands across her mouth to keep from giggling. Jason looked like he was about to pee in his pants, he was trying so hard not to laugh.

What's the matter, babe?" Mark came out from beneath the balcony, putting his wallet into his back pocket.

There's something--sand or something-in my hair," Lauren said, still fluffing out her hair-which you could tell she didn't want to do, since she flat-ironed it so straight.

Mark leaned in closer to examine Lauren's hair. "Looks okay to me," he said.
Which just made us laugh harder, until tears were streaming out of the corners of our eyes.

I felt as if the Milky Way, hovering above our heads like a celestial pitcher, had suddenly overturned, pouring suns and planets down my throat. Stars seemed to be shooting out of my finger and toes, the ends of my hair.

Lots of people go through life not having the slightest idea what names to put in the blanks on their "Who Am I?" work sheets, and they aren't bothered in the least by it.

I always thought when I became an adult everything would become less confusing, but unfortunately, everything's only becoming more confusing.

Guys don't like it when you get too heavy, I've noticed. They especially don't like it when you try to talk too much about the future. They're like little woodland animals. Everything's well and good when you're just doling out the nuts and everything's cool. But the minute you bring out the net to try to catch them - even if it's for their own good, like to help them escape a forest fire - all hell breaks loose.

Didn't you," he asked, "have me
exorcised?"
"Me?" My own voice rocketed up about ten octaves. "Me? Jesse, of course not. I would never do that. I mean, you know I would never do something like that. That kid Jack did it. Your girlfriend Maria made him do it. She was trying to get rid of you. She told Jack you were bothering me, and he didn't know any better, so he exorcised you, and then Felix Diego threw me off the porch roof, and Jesse, they found your body, I mean your bones, and I saw them and I threw up all over the side of the house, and Spike really misses you and I was just thinking, you know, if you wanted to come back, you could, because that's why I've got this rope, so we can find our way back.

I'll just go at my own pace. Nice and easy. Here we go. There, see? I'm doing it. I'm running! Hey, look at me! I'm running! I'm-
Okay, well, that's enough of that. Whew. I mean, a girl could hyperventilate from doing that. And seriously, it's my first day. Don't want to overdo it.

So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when I was applying for campus housing and overheard Andy telling my mother that the only way I was going to be safe from all the sexual assaults he'd heard about on National Public Radio was if I lived in an all-girl dorm.
Never mind that I have been kicking the butts of the undead since I was in elementary school, and that almost the entire time I resided under Andy's roof, I had a hot undead guy living in my bedroom. These are two of those secrets I was telling you about. Andy doesn't know about them, and neither does my mother. They think Jesse is what Father Dominic told them he is: a "young Jesuit student who transferred to the Carmel Mission from Mexico, then lost his yearning to go into the priesthood" after meeting me.
That one slays me every time.

Foxy girls know that silence may be golden-but only for four seconds. Anything longer and you're heading for Awkward Avenue.

I guess I was in kind of a bad mood because of Jesse interrupting my little heart-to-heart with Father Dominic. But that was no reason for him to come up behind me as I was walking toward the group around the fire and whisper, "Behave," in my ear.
I flashed him a look of annoyance. I always do," I said.
You know what he did then? He laughed! And not in a very nice way, either. I couldn't believe it.

They just kept grinning at me from over the stupid sign, Dopey because
he's too dumb to know any better, Doc because – well, I guess because he might have been glad to see
me. Doc's weird that way. Sleepy, the oldest, just stood there, looking … well, sleepy.

Me: "Ngh"
Cal: "Well put."
...... Every Boy's Got One

A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.
I really hate this expression. I bet fish would totally want bicycles.

That's enough of that," Jesse said. Next thing I knew, he'd scooped me up.
Only instead of carrying me to my bed and setting me down on it all romantically, you know, like guys do to girls in the movies, he just dumped me onto it, so I bounced around and would have fallen off if I hadn't grabbed the edge of the mattress.
"Thanks," I said, not quite able to keep all of the sarcasm out of my voice.

Nobody messes with a girl in combat boots, particularly when she's also a vegetarian.

I've only been gone a week, I reminded him.
Well, a week's a long time. It's seven days. Which is one hundred and sixty-eight hours. Which is ten thousand, eighty minutes. Which is six hundred thousand, for hundred seconds.

In high school, I was very active in extracurricular activities such as art, theatre, and choir. I also wrote for the school newspaper, but not regularly, because I never liked writing non-fiction very much.

Fleeing the premises?" Detective Canavan echos sarcastically. "Have you been watching Castle again?"
"It's a reasonable question," I say. "And Castle's a very good show.

Max the Ackermans family dog and brad had alot in common but max was defintely smarter

But I'm living proof you don't have to spend a lot in order to look great.

Cursed?" I offered, my voice croaky because of my unshed tears.
"It isn't cursed." John said deliberately, rearranging the chain around my neck, "if you're wearing it. It's blessed.

For each book, I do end up making a kind of playlist to fit the characters.

I understand you love him and UR down/ But that don't mean you gotta be his clown.

You're in Europe. You're young. Young people have been going to Europe on a shoestring for a hundred years.

If you give a man a fish he'll eat for a day, if you teach a man to fish he'll eat all the fish you may have caught for yourself

It was also, however, a favorite place for novices to stand and wait for innocent students to slip up by talking too loudly between classes.
No novice has ever been created that could keep Gina quiet, however.

The only way, I thought to myself, that this could get any weirder would be if it turns out he has that dead body's head on ice where in the basement, some ready for transplantation onto Cindy Crawford's body as soon as it becomes available.

Look, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I said no because the whole thing would just be too
Dirty Dancing , right? Summer fling at the resort, only with the roles reversed: you know, the poor
working girl and the rich doctor's son, nobody puts Baby in the corner, blah blah blah. That kind of thing.

I've never enjoyed myself more than I have the past forty-eight hours, during which I've been trapped in a car with one of the worst drivers I've ever seen, run up the Spanish Steps and then down again so I could be on time to wait in line to perjuer myself at the American consulate. And I'd like to continue doing those sorts of thing with you on a regular basis for the foreseeable future.

I'm eighteen; I'm a princess; and I'm a virgin. You know what? At this point in my life, I might as well be a unicorn. Happy freaking birthday to me.

But I let it slide, because, hello, hot guy.

Hiding out in some cheap motel with a boy? Did my parents really think I would do something that immature and, I'm sorry, completely skanky?

Father Dom looked taken aback. "Normal?" he echoed. As in, who would ever want to be that?

If all people became ghosts my social life would be so over
- Suze Simon in the Mediator

I remembered lying there in my wet panties, going, "What do I do now?" Jason was asleep, but even if he hadn't been, I wouldn't have told him what had happened. I was convinced I'd never have heard the end of it. "Wet the bed like a baby!" he'd cry. Well, knowing Jason, he probably wouldn't have said any such thing. But in my feverish four-year-old brain, I was convinced he wouldn't want to be my friend anymore if he knew I was a bed wetter. Also, of course, it would come up every time I beat him at anything: "Well, okay, maybe you're better at Candy Land, but at least I'm not a bed wetter.

When I get out of this hospital, you and I are going to sit down and have a very long chat, Susannah, about proper mediation techniques. I don't know about this habit of yours of just walking up and punching the poor souls in the face.

Everyone knows you only want to look at the sinkhole because you love a good disaster. Get back to work, Fuller. I don't pay you for your looks.

I'm already fantasizing about the Chinese food IO'm going to order in. Moo shu chicken with hoisn sauce. Maybe I'll even eat it in the bathtub.

See? Anger can be healthy. When the time comes–and it will come–remember that. And what I said. Embrace your powers–love yourself the way Nature made you, and you will prevail. Always.

Beautiful girls who love too much, as Lindsay appeared to have done, often meet unpleasant ends.

Only a couple of people have figured out what a weirdo super freak I am on the inside. And those people all have a reason to keep my secret, because ... well, I've helped them resolve their own secrets.
One person especially. Miraculously, he fell in love with me.
Don't ask me why. I think I'm fabulous, but I'm not entirely sure what he sees in me (except the fact that I've saved his life a few times. But he's returned the favor).

The first thing we did was change all the clocks so that her siblings thought it was bedtime, then put them to bed ignoring their plaintive protests that they were not tired. They wept themselves to sleep soon enough.

I'll tell you what you can do," he said, stopping abruptly. Now he did reach out to grip both my shoulders. But still not to kiss me. Only so he could wheel me around to glare at me some more. "You can leave me alone."
Tears sprang once more into my eyes. That's what he wanted from me? For me to stay away from him?
This had turned into a greater disaster than when I'd died. And I was still breathing, so that was say something.
"I'd like to," I said. All I could hear besides the deep, disapproving timbre of his voice was the drum of my heartbeat in my ears. Stupid girl. Stupid girl. Stupid girl, my heart seemed to be saying. "Except every time I try, you show back up, and act such a ... such a ... "
"Such a what?" he demanded. He seemed to be practically daring me to say.
Don't, the voice of my mother warned inside my head. Don't say it.
"Jerk.

You;re colling me, So i fugure you must not hate me anymore. dOES THIS MEAN YOU WANNA GO OUT? iI'm free tonight. I mean , I have plans, but i can break them. For you.
Brandon, you kidnapped me. And then you made the only person I'll ever love in my life hate me. I completely despise you.
So ... , I take that as a no, you do not want to go out with me tonight.

But it's there. Just because I haven't told anyone doesn't mean it isn't there, all the time, lurking in the back of my mind, like one those NSync songs you can't get out of your head.

Nikki "Brandon's never hurt anyone. He's competely sweet and adorable."
I choked a little on the sip of sparkling water I'k just swallowed. If Brandon was sweet and adorable, I was Satan's bride.

Hasn't anyone ever told you," Jesse asked, in a semi-amused voice, " that a gentleman never lays a hand on a lady?"
Which I thought was kind of funny, considering where Jesse had had his hand the last time I'd seen him. But I thought it better to let that slide.

That part of the press release about me asking your father's permission to marry you was true - well, partly true, anyway. I didn't ask permission - I knew you wouldn't like that, it's sexist. You're not your father's property. But I did see him before we left, to tell him I was going to propose to you this weekend, and ask for his blessing."
I was stunned. "Wait . . . is this what you meant when you said before we left that you'd talked to my parents?"
"Yes. I spoke to your mother, too, because she played an even bigger role in raising you. I thought it was the right thing to do. How do you think you got out of doing all those events - and birthday Cirque du Soleil with your grandmother - so easily?

Each caress leaving my nerve endings feeling as tingly as if they'd just been kissed by a shooting star, landing on my skin and leaving it as glistening as a newly formed galaxy.

It is a documented fact. I read it in People magazine.

The term "forgive and forget" doesn't make sense to me. Forgiving does allow us to stop dwelling on an issue, which isn't always healthy. But if we forget, we don't learn from our mistakes.

Growing up, I mostly read comic books and sci-fi. Then I discovered the book 'Jane Eyre' by Jane Austen. It introduced me to the world of romance, which I have since never left. Also, the world of the first-person narrative.

Yeah," Bryce said, "but I mean, I drove her to it, you know? That's the thing. If I just hadn't broken up with her - " "You have a pretty high opinion of yourself, don't you?" He looked taken aback. "What?" "Well, your assumption that she killed herself because you broke up with her. I don't think that's why she killed herself at all. She killed herself because she was sick. You had nothing to do with making her that way. Your breaking up with her may have acted as a sort of catalyst for her final breakdown, but it could just have easily been some other crisis in her life - her parents getting divorced, her not making the cheerleader squad, her cat dying. Anything. So try not to be so hard on yourself.

I was about to order Chinese when I looked out the window and saw you. Hey, do you two want to stay? We're getting moo shu."
It was so like Uncle Chris to go from wanting to beat John up one minute, to inviting him for moo shu the next.
"Uh, maybe," I said. I pointed to the French doors, looking questioningly at John. He nodded. "Let's see how it goes, okay, Uncle Chris?"
"That'd be good," Uncle Chris said. "We could talk all this out."
John followed me inside, Uncle Chris trailing behind us, his expression curious rather than suspicious.
"I hate it when families fight," Uncle Chris was saying. "It makes it so uncomfortable ... "
I suppose I should have counted it lucky that it had been Uncle Chris, and not some other adult, I'd run into first at home. I wasn't sure if it was because of all the years he'd sent out of mainstream society-he still had no idea how to text, or what Google was-or if his personality was really this childlike.

It's kind of depressing, if you think about it. I mean, me being so young, and yet so cynical and suspicious.

His hair, at first glance, appears merely dark, but upon closer inspection is actually many strands of chestnut brown, gold, and black. He wears it long, for a guy, not because doing
so is "in," but because he's too busy with his many interests to remember to get it cut regularly. His eyes seem dark at first glance, as well, but are actually a kaleidoscope of
russets and mahoganies, flecked here and there with ruby and gold, like twin lakes during an Indian summer, into which you feel as if you could dive and swim forever. Nose: aquiline. Mouth: imminently kissable. Neck: aromatic - an intoxicating blend of Tide from his shirt collar, Gillette shaving foam, and Ivory soap, which together spell: my
boyfriend.
B–
Better. I would have liked more description on what exactly about his mouth you find so imminently kissable.
- C. Martinez

Was it frisson when you saw a guy smile and it made your heart act all weird?

But you know the minute I graduated high school I never looked at a single math problem again, right? I send everything with numbers on it to my accountant, or I make Michael deal with it." "Great. Spoken like a true feminist,

But he's looking for love in all the wrong places. Like fancy under catalogs
At least he knows enough not to date while he's campaigning

Always be true to your friends, just as you are to yourself.

And every camera in the room turned to focus on my horror-stricken, blood-drained face.

It's only by studying the mistakes of the past," Lucien said mildly, "that we can even have a future

John," I murmured, rising from the bed and going to stand by the table, staring down in astonishment at the gold-rimmed china plates and intricately embroidered napkins in sapphire rings. "How did all of this get here?"
"Oh," he said casually. "It just does. Coffee?" He lifted a gleaming silver pot. "Or do I seem to remember you being more partial to tea?" His grin was wicked.
I gave him a sarcastic look-it was a cup of tea I'd thrown into his face to escape from the Underworld the last time-then sank down into the chair where the bird was perched.

Your assignment,' he bellowed at Kelly, 'was to make a persuasive argument. Demanding to know whether detractors of your position are on crack is not arguing persuasively.

That does not mean he is smarter than I am. I mean, can he draw a cat ?

I don't know why the world has to be populated by so many unpleasant people. I really don't. It really takes an effort to be rude, too. The amount of energy people expend on being a jerk astounds me sometimes.

Hey," he said, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs wide.
"I'm more than willing to change my last name and give up my citizenship for you. I'll even walk two steps behind you in public after we're married, like a proper prince consort. But the birth control thing is going to have to be up to you, because obviously nothing can contain what these bad boys are packing."
"Did you seriously just refer to your testicles as 'bad boys'?"
"I did. It's not as if you didn't have warning, Mia. As has been previously stated - by that bastion of fine reporting, InTouch, no less - I am the world's greatest lover."
"More like the world's greatest idiot.

Is everything all right? Is everything all right? Hmm, hold on a minute, let me see ... my mom is going out with my Algebra teacher, a subject I'm flunking, by the way; my best friend hates me; I'm fourteen years old and I've never been asked out; I don't have any breasts; and oh, I just found out I'm the princess of Genovia.

There really was no advantage, that I could see, in having brothers: they chewed with their mouths open, and ate every single Poppin' Fresh roll before I'd even had one.

I'll put a bullet through my own brain. Let alone wait for stark to do it. Your sister will drive me to it, Howard. No offense.

Are you a pirate?

> CracKing: No need to yell.
> FtLouie: I'm not yelling!!!
> CracKing: You're using excessive amounts of punctuation, and on-line, that's like yelling.

Escape from the realm of the dead is impossible. She's not dead. Not this time.

Observation point," he said, pointing to the wooden sign in front of us that said, OBSERVATION POINT. NO LITTERING. "A lot of kids come here on Saturday night." Micheal cleared his throat and looked at me meaningfully. "And park."
I have to say, up until that moment I really had no idea I was capable of moving so fast as I did getting out of that car. But I was unbuckled and out of that seat quicker than you could say ectoplasm.

Smiles like that should be against the law. Considering what they do to a girl.

Oh, that's just great. I come all the way back here, risking major brain cell burnout, and you don't even believe me? I'm basically guaranteeing myself a lifetime of heartbreak, and all you have to say is that you think I'm not right in the head?

Emerson:bite me Whitne:you wish

Exit our Miss Mel. Exit Friend Tim. When I glanced over my shoulder, Max Friedlander had disappeared - a remarkable feat, considering that there was nowhere on that side of the hole for him to go except into the Chronicle building.

But he can't have gone in there. His soul would have been ripped instantly from his body while demons sucked out his life force.

After more than one hundred and fifty years of living alone in the darkness, I met you, Susannah, and through you, I met Father Dominic. Everything my mother said in her letter came true. It wasn't the same church, and it wasn't the same priest. But the letter and the ring were there, all because of you. And now I want to give that ring to you.

Life is not a romance novel

You mentioned earlier that if I wanted to help, Miss Oliviera, I should save the lectures, and help," Mr. Smith said as he sprayed. "Perhaps that's exactly what Fates do."
I shook my head, bewildered. "I'm sorry?"
"Perhaps Fates are people like us…ordinary souls who've found themselves caught up in the battle between good and evil, and have chosen to take a stand and help do what's right." Mr. Smith was lecturing again, but this time the speech seemed to be directed at John, too. His tone was kindly, however. "Maybe that's why John's fingerprints aren't in the Isla Heusos Police Department database, and why no one will find his footsteps here. Small things that take just a moment to do, yes, but that could add up, in the end, to make an enormous difference to someone. What do you say to that, Miss Oliviera?"
"I…I don't know," I said. I was confused. I supposed he was right, though. This could certainly explain how John was able to drift like a ghost in and out of the Isla Heusos Cemetery-and my various schools-leaving behind no trace, except rumors and the faintest images on video, and broken padlocks and chains.

how many ghosts I was going to encounter. That Serra guy had to have a bunch of Native Americans mad at him - particularly considering that corporal punishment thing - and I hadn't any doubt I was going to encounter all of them. And yet, when my mom and I walked through the school's wide front archway into the courtyard around which the Mission had been constructed, I didn't see a single person who looked as if he or she didn't belong there. There were a few tourists snapping pictures of the impressive fountain, a gardener working diligently at the base of a palm tree - even at my new school there were palm trees - a priest walking in silent contemplation down the airy breezeway. It was a beautiful, restful place - especially for a building that was so old and had to have seen so much death. I couldn't understand it. Where were all the ghosts? Maybe they were afraid to hang around the place. I was a little afraid, looking up at that crucifix.

My family, they're story tellers. My mom is Irish, and my dad is Italian. In my family, we weren't allowed to watch TV while we ate - we had to sit around the table and tell stories about our day.

I've come to the conclusion that, aside from Nazis, the Taliban, and possibly the honey badger, there is no one on the planet more merciless than a teenage girl once she's decided she dislikes you.

But I intend to enjoy the weeks I have left with you to the fullest. Because I know from my study of the philosophy of time, whatever is going to happen in the future is already unavoidable.

Even though I loved to write, I never liked English lit. class very much. I think it ruins books when you dissect them too much. I liked my art classes best.

Needless to say, the fact that he actually spoke to me at all practically caused me to pass out. And then the fact that he was actually saying something that sounded like it might be a prelude to asking me out - well, I nearly threw up. I mean it. I felt really sick, but in a good way.

Meena wasn't sure which she found more disturbing: that she'd been hunting her ex-boyfriend's murderous wife with a hair dryer beneath the streets of Manhattan, or that when she opened her eyes after having been knocked unconscious by this person, she realized she'd been rescued by another one of her ex-boyfriends.

Father Dominic, however is a way better mediator than I am. Well, maybe not better. But different, certainly. See, he really feels that ghosts are best handled with gentle guidance and earnest advice-same as the living. I'm more in favor of a sort of get-to-the-point approach that tends to involve my fists.

You know," I said, holding my ground. "I gotta tell you. The goatee thing? Yeah, way over. And you know a little jewelry really does go a long way. Just something you might want to consider. I'm actually glad you stopped by, because I have a couple things I've been meaning to say to you. Number one,
about your wife? Yeah, she's a skank. And number two, you know that whole thing where you killed Jesse and then buried his remains out back there? Yeah, way un-cool.

Why did we come back this way instead of popping up somewhere less…cramped?" I asked, substituting the word cramped for creepy. I was trying not to feel weirded out that I was in my boyfriend's crypt. It was only a building, after all.
A very unpleasant one.
"This is a portal," he said, as if that explained everything.
"A what?"
"A portal," John whispered. "A direct link from here to the Underworld. That's why you don't feel dizzy this time."
I hadn't even noticed, but he was right. I didn't feel sick, for once, though we'd just jumped between astral planes.
"This is a doorway through which the souls of the departed enter the world of the dead after they pass," John explained softly. "The doorway closes behind the dead once they enter. They can never leave again-"
"Unless they escape," I interrupted. Because this was what had happened to me.
He glanced down at me with a teasing smile. "Unless I choose to let them escape," he said, "because they seem to want their mothers so badly."
"That was two years ago," I reminded him. I shouldn't have mentioned the thing that morning about being inexperienced with men, even if it was technically true. He was never going to let me help him if he always thought of me as someone he had to protect. "And do I have to remind you that you didn't let me escape, I-"
"Shhh." He held up a hand. "Someone's coming.

You know", Grandma says, "you could learn a lot from Dr.Quinn. She knows how to make soap from a sheep's guts. And she had twins when she was fifty. Fifty!

If you have the right shoes, you can do anything.

I broke my toe playing Olympic figure skater with Allie over winter break.

Sleepy pulled the car to a stop in front of this paved entranceway, which was flanked on either side by these enormous palm trees, kind of like the Polynesian Resort at Disney World. In fact, the whole place had kind of a Disney feel to it. You know, really big, and kind of modern and fake.

Yes, I'm sorry you won't be coming with us," Chloe said to Alex. "But please don't worry. I'm certain The Lord has another plan for you." She glanced at me. "For both of you."
"Oh, I can assure you,"said a new, deeply masculine voice from behind me. I turned to see John sitting, tall and dark and disapproving, on the back of his horse, Alastor. "He does."
"Chloe wasn't talking about you," I said to John, leaning my elbows against the rough wood of the dock railing. "She meant the other lord."
John raised a dark eyebrow. "Oh, that one," he said. "My mistake.