Sonya Sones Quotes

I wish he hadn't gone and cut his hair. He looks about eight years old. His ears have tripled in size. Everyone's started calling him Dumbo. Which wouldn't be so bad, except they've started calling me Mrs. Dumbo. You can't even tell he's got curly hair anymore. There's nothing left to run my fingers through. Just this weird blond AstroTurf sprouting out of his skull.

You're thinking I'm a hopelessly romantic idiot.
And you know what?
You're right.

I love that sign," I say.
"I love you," Robin says.
I feel my cheeks
turn the color of the sky.
"I love you, too," I say.

Sometimes I just know things.

Every now and then,
during the commercials
Dad will say something like,
'How was school today, Sophie Dophie?'

Once I said, 'We played strip poker
during third period and I lost.'
Dad just said, 'That's nice,'
without even looking up from his meatloaf.

Walking with Murphy
through the bone-freezing chill
toward the bus stop,
I start shivering.
And somehow,
when he slips his arm around me
to warm me up,
it feels right.
Righter than anything ever has.

I didn't even notice that, along the way
somewhere, she'd become my best friend.

It's raining in my heart, like it's raining in the city. What is this sadness that pierces my heart?

If Dylan and I had met
by chatting on the Net
in a room of cyberspace
instead of face to face
and I hadn't seen his lips
or the way he moves his hips
when he does that sexy dance
and I hadn't had a chance
to look into his eyes
and be dazzled by their size
and all that I had seen
were his letters on my screen,
then I might as well confess:
I think I would have liked him

less.

Friends don't let friends commit social suicide.

I know this sounds incredibly lame,
but I don't want losing my virginity
to feel like I'm losing something.
I want it to feel like I'm finding something.
I want sex to be amazing.
I want it to be life-alteringly wonderful.
And I want it to happen with someone I love.

But Lunch Isn't That Bad, Really Once I get used to having to eat with two people instead of one. Two people who have known each other for such a long time that they practically speak in code. Two people who are always saying, "Remember the time when this happened?" and "Remember the time when that happened?" (Which, of course, I never do, because I wasn't there.) Well, okay, it is that bad. It sucks, even.

The golden moment when I'm not yet awake enough to remember that there are things I would rather forget.

Grace's eyes bigger than DVD's,
Rachel's mouth hanging open so wide
you could reach right in and
perform a tonsillectomy.

Madame V begins the lesson by reading aloud the first stanza of a famous French poem: Il pleure dans mon coeur Comme il pleut sur la ville; Quelle est cette langueur Qui penetre mon coeur? Then she looks up and without any warning she calls on me to translate it. I swallow hard, and try: "It's raining in my heart like it's raining in the city. What is this sadness that pierces my heart?" Saying these words out loud, right in front of the whole class, makes me feel like I'm not wearing any clothes.

I love to read,
but I can't stand books like that.
And I flat out refuse
to have one of those lives
that I wouldn't even want
to read about."
"But at least I'm numb
as if my heart's been Novocained.

And I flat out refuse
to have one of those lives
that I wouldn't even want
to read about.

She flashes me a smile so devastating that it could even make an atheist believe in God.

Human beings tend to be conservative,
so if you lie, you'll probably be closer to the truth.