Cole St Clair Quotes

It was like when you had been unhappy and didn't know it until you weren't anymore. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Here's what I know about Cole," Jeremy said. Punctuated by the silence, it sounded like he was in a pulpit. "Cole's religion is debunking the impossible. He doesn't believe in impossible. He doesn't believe in no. Cole's religion is waiting for someone to tell him it can't be done so he can do it. Anything. Doesn't matter what that something is, so long as it can't be done. Here's an origin story for you. In the beginning of time there was an ocean and a void, and God made the ocean into the world and he made the void into Cole."

Victor laughed.

"I thought you said you were a Buddhist," Jan said.

"Part-time," Jeremy replied.

Debunking the impossible.

Now, the pines stretched up so high on either side of the road that it felt like I was tunneling to the middle of the world. Mercy Falls was an unnumbered stretch of miles behind me.

I was sixteen again, and the road unwound in front of me, endless possibilities. I felt wiped clean, empty, forgiven. I could drive forever, anywhere. I could be anyone. But I felt the pull of Boundary Wood around me and, for once, the business of being Cole St. Clair no longer felt like such a curse. I had a purpose, a goal, and it was the impossible: finding a cure.

I was so close. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

You want to talk? Fine. Talk. Tell me something you've never told anybody else.'
I thought for a moment. 'Turtles have the second-largest brains of any animal on the planet.'
It took Isabel only a second to process this. 'No, they don't.'
'I know that's why I've never told anybody that before. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

You just can't wait to get out of your head, can you?"
"if you were in here you might want that too. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Internet: What do you want for your birthday?
Virtual Cole: to stay young forever
Cole texted me:
Actually I want you ~ Maggie Stiefvater

You're assuming they would listen to me," I said.
Cole lifted his hands off the roof of the Volkswagen; cloudy fingerprints evaporated seconds ater he did. "We all listen to you, Sam."
He jumped to the pavement. "You just don't always talk to us. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

And here was what I was most afraid of: that Cole St. Clair would fall in love with me, and I'd fall in love with him, both of us human weapons, and we'd both end up with broken hearts. ~Isabel ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Tomorrow brought exactly what you told it to bring. If you told it nothing, nothing was what you got. I was done with nothing. I wanted something.
No. I wanted everything. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

It sure is ugly."
"Ugly, never hurt a thing."
I scoffed. "Oh, ugly has hurt some things. It's just that pretty hurts more. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

It's not about the landing. It's about the flying. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

As I pulled aside the linen curtain to the back room, I heard the front door open again. If it was Christina returning to make a second effort at my leggings, I was going to be forced to get loud, and I didn't like getting loud.
But it wasn't Christina I heard at the front of the store.
Instead, a very familiar voice said, "No, no, I'm looking for something very particular. Oh, wait, I just saw it."
I turned around.
Cole St. Clair smiled lazily at me.
I gave so many damns at once that it actually hurt. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Luck," Jeremy scoffed softly. "There's no luck."
"Then what?"
"Your feet take you where you need to be."
I thought about this. "My feet have taken me to some pretty rough places."
"That was your dick, dragging your feet along with. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

After an hour, "Gasoline Love" was sounding more like "Turpentine Disinterest. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

I started down but Sam caught my arm and knelt down himself to look.
"For crying out loud," he said. "It's a racoon."
"Poor thing," I said.
"It could be a rabid baby-killer," Cole told me primly.
"Shut up," Sam said pleasantly. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

The most important thing is to not stop questioning. ~ Albert Einstein

I can't change the way I'm made. I'm a performer, a singer, a werewolf, a sinner. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Da.
-Cole st. Clair ~ Maggie Stiefvater

It wasn't that I didn't understand Jeremy getting a new band while I was missing/dead/etc. I was sure I would have done the same thing in his position. Well, I would have started one, not joined one, because I don't really like team sports unless I've invented both the team and the sport. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

And there, far ahead of me, running by the side of the road, a human. The low sun stretched his shadow out one hundred times taller than him. Cole St. Clair, running alongside the wolves, side-stepping debris on the roadside every so often and sometimes jumping the ditch for a few strides and then back again. He held his arms out for balance as he leaped, unself-conscious, like a boy. There was something so fiercely big about the gesture of Cole running with the wolves that it made the last thing I said to him ring in my ears. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Food," I suggested. "Sleep. That's what I need. To get the hell away from here."
Cole frowned at me, as if I'd suggested "ducks" and "yoga". ~ Maggie Stiefvater

I didn't tell her the first part, which was this: Once upon a time, before being a new wolf tied up in the back of a Tahoe, before Club Josephine, before NARKOTIKA, there was a boy named Cole St. Clair, and he could do anything. And the weight of that possibility was so unbearable that he crushed himself before it had a chance to. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

I came back because I had to. Because there was nothing wrong in the world except that I was getting older in it. Because Sam and Grace had told me I should go if that was what I
wanted.
What I wanted was:
I wanted.
Isabel - ~ Maggie Stiefvater

I gather/You hunt/We both miss the trap ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Holding tight, denying the fact that eventually we all had to let go. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

It wasn't a touch that said I need more. It was a touch that said I want this. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Over the previous few weeks, I'd finally perfected the Julia St. Clair wedding cupcake: classic lemon cake with a hidden heart of my mom's boldly flavoured passion fruit filling, slathered high with Julia's favorite vanilla buttercream icing and glammed up a bit with sparkling curls of candied lemon rind. ~ Meg Donohue

Honorable Judge Robert Galbraith ~ Georgette St. Clair

So what happened?"
"I don't know." Another glance to ensure his continued state of Not Looking, and then I rip off my clothes in one fast swoop. I am now officially stark naked in the room with the most beautiful boy I know. Funny,but this isn't how I imagined this moment.
No.Not funny.One hundred percent the exact opposite of funny.
"I think I maybe,possibly, vaguely remember hitting the snooze button." I jabber to cover my mortification. "Only I guess it was the off button.But I had the alarm on my phone set,too, so I don't know what happened."
Underwear,on.
"Did you turn the ringer back on last night?"
"What?" I hop into my jeans, a noise he seems to determinedly ignore.His ears are apple red.
"You went to see a film,right? Don't you set your mobile to silent at the theater?"
He's right.I'm so stupid. If I hadn't taken Meredith to A Hard Day's Night, a Beatles movie I know she loves, I would have never turned it off. We'd already be in a taxi to the airport. "The taxi!" I tug my sweater over my head and look up to find myself standing across from a mirror.
A mirror St. Clair is facing.
"It's all right," he says. "I told the driver to wait when I came up here. We'll just have to tip him a little extra." His head is still down. I don't think he saw anything.I clear my throat, and he glances up. Our eyes meet in the mirror,and he jumps. "God! I didn't...I mean,not until just now..."
"Cool.Yeah,fine." I try to shake it off ~ Stephanie Perkins

To: Anna Oliphant
From: Etienne St. Clair
Subject: Uncommon Prostitues

I have nothing to say about prostitues (other than you'd make a terrible prostitute,the profession is much too unclean), I only wanted to type that. Isn't it odd we both have to spend Christmas with our fathers? Speaking of unpleasant matters,have you spoken with Bridge yet? I'm taking the bus to the hospital now.I expect a full breakdown of your Christmas dinner when I return. So far today,I've had a bowl of muesli. How does Mum eat that rubbish? I feel as if I've been gnawing on lumber.

To: Etienne St. Clair
From: Anna Oliphant
Subject: Christmas Dinner


MUESLY? It's Christmas,and you're eating CEREAL?? I'm mentally sending you a plate from my house. The turkey is in the oven,the gravy's on the stovetop,and the mashed potatoes and casseroles are being prepared as I type this. Wait. I bet you eat bread pudding and mince pies or something,don't you? Well, I'm mentally sending you bread pudding. Whatever that is. No, I haven't talked to Bridgette.Mom keeps bugging me to answer her calls,but winter break sucks enough already. (WHY is my dad here? SERIOUSLY. MAKE HIM LEAVE. He's wearing this giant white cable-knit sweater,and he looks like a pompous snowman,and he keeps rearranging the stuff on our kitchen cabinets. Mom is about to kill him. WHICH IS WHY SHE SHOULDN'T INVITE HIM OVER FOR HOLIDAYS). Anyway.I'd rather not add to the drama.

Stephanie Perkins

I would give the world to have one more person for whom I would lay down my life. ~ Julia Quinn

Creative problem solving is not necessarily tantamount to cheating. ~ V. St. Clair

If you want to know if a gentleman loves you," her mother said, "there is only one true way to be sure."
"It's in his kiss," her mother whispered. "It's all there, in his kiss. ~ Julia Quinn

Josh: St. Clair and Anna are one of those couples that seem like they were made for each other. Instant friendship, instant chemistry. He was obsessed with her from the moment they met. She was the only thing he ever wanted to talk about. Still is, actually. ~ Stephanie Perkins

I'm jittery.It's like the animatronic band from Chuck E. Cheese is throwing a jamboree in my stomach. I've always hated Chuck E. Cheese. Why am I thinking about Chuck E. Cheese? I don't know why I'm nervous.I'm just seeing my mom again. And Seany.And Bridge! Bridge said she'd come.
St. Clair's connecting flight to San Francisco doesn't leave for another three hours,so we board the train that runs between terminals,and he walks me to the arrivals area.We've been quiet since we got off the plane. I guess we're tired. We reach the security checkpoint,and he can't go any farther. Stupid TSA regulations.I wish I could introduce him to my family.The Chuck E. Cheese band kicks it up a notch,which is weird, because I'm not nervous about leaving him. I'll see him again in two weeks.
"All right,Banana.Suppose this is goodbye." He grips the straps of his backpack,and I do the same.
This is the moment we're supposed to hug. For some reason,I can't do it.
"Tell your mom hi for me. I mean, I know I don't know her. She just sounds really nice. And I hope she's okay."
He smiles softly. "Thanks.I'll tell her."
"Call me?"
"Yeah,whatever. You'll be so busy with Bridge and what's-his-name that you'll forget all about your English mate, St. Clair."
"Ha! So you are English!" I poke him in the stomach.
He grabs my hand and we wrestle, laughing. "I claim....no...nationality."
I break free. "Whatever,I totally caught you. Ow!" A gray-haired man in sun ~ Stephanie Perkins

Because I was right. For the two of us, home isn't a place. It's a person ~ Stephanie Perkins

When we invoke stillness within our consciousness, we have the power to recover the child we forgot that we once were. ~ Daniel St. Clair

People will think you're courting me.'
'Nonsense, everyone knows I don't court respectable women. ~ Julia Quinn

I'm sorry," he says.
"What? Why?"
"You're fixing everything I set down." He nods at my hands, which are readjusting the elephant. "It wasn't polite of me to come in and start touching your things."
"Oh, it's okay," I say quickly, letting go of the figurine. "You can touch anything of mine you want."
He freezes. A funny look runs across his face before I realize what I've said. I didn't mean it like that.
Not that that would be so bad. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Hyacinth," he said.
She looked at him expectantly.
"Hyacinth," he said again, this time with a bit more certitude. He smiled, letting his eyes melt into hers. "Hyacinth."
"We know her name," came his grandmother's voice.
Gareth ignored her and pushed a table aside so that he could drop to one knee. "Hyacinth," he said, relishing her gasp as he took her hand in his, "would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?"
Her eyes widened, the misted, and her lips, which he'd been kissing so deliciously mere hours earlier, began to quiver. "I ... I ... "
It was unlike her to be so without words, and he was enjoying it, especially the show of emotion on her face.
"I ... I ... "
"Yes!" his grandmother finally yelled. "Yes! She'll marry you!"
"She can speak for herself," he said.
"No," Lady D said, "she can't. Quite obviously. ~ Julia Quinn

I'm fine.My father's an arse, and my mum is dying and-oh my God,I'm so pissed." St. Clair looked at me again. His eyes were glassy like black marbles. "Pissed.Pissed.Pissed."
"We know you're pissed at your dad," I said. "It's okay. You're right, he's a jerk." I mean what was I supposed to say? He just found out his mother has cancer.
"Pissed is British for 'drunk,'" Mer said.
"Oh," I said. "Well. You're definitely that, too."
Meanwhile,The Couple was fighting. "Where have you been?" Rashmi asked. "You said you'd be home three hours ago!"
Josh rolled his eyes. "Out.We've been out. Someone had to help him-"
"And you call that helping? He's completely wasted. Catatonic. And you! God,you smell like car exhaust and armpits-"
"He couldn't drink alone."
"You were supposed to be watching out for him! What if something happened?"
"Beer. Liquor. Thatsswhat happened. Don't be such a prude,Rash. ~ Stephanie Perkins

I like you. And I don't mean as a friend. ~ Stephanie Perkins

I chuck my bag into his lap,perhaps a little too hard.St. Clair oofs and jerks forward.
"Watch it." Josh bites into a pink apple and talks through a full moouth. "He has parts down there you don't have."
"Ooo,parts," I say. "Intriguing. Tell me more."
Josh smiles sadly. "Sorry. Privelged information.Only people with parts can know about said parts."
St. Clair shakes the rest of the leaves from his hair and puts on The Hat. Rashmi makes a face at him. "Really? Today? In public?" she asks.
"Every day," he says. "As long as you're with me. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Lies are like a treadmill with no off switch. You have to keep walking or you'll fall off. ~ Iris St. Clair

Anna: What are you doing here?

Etienne: I came for you.

Anna: And how on EARTH did you know I was up here?

Etienne: I saw you. I came to make another wish, and I was standing on Point Zéro when I saw you enter the tower. I called your name, and you looked around, but you didn't see me.

Anna: So you decided to just … come up?

Etienne: I had to. I couldn't wait for you to come down, I couldn't wait any longer. I had to see you now. I have to know … Why did you lie to me?

Anna: I'm sorry, I don't know what …

Etienne: November. At the creperie. I asked you if we'd talked about anything strange that night I was drunk in your room. If I had said anything about our relationship, or my relationship with Ellie. And you said no.

Anna: How did you know?

Etienne: Josh told me.

Anna: When?

Etienne: November.

Anna: I…I…If you'd seen the look on your face that day. In the restaurant. How could I possibly tell you? With your mother…

Etienne: But if you had, I wouldn't have wasted all of these months. I thought you were turning me down. I thought you weren't interested.

Anna: But you were drunk! You had a girlfriend! What was I supposed to do? God, St. Clair. I didn't even know if you meant it.

Etienne: Of course I meant it. I meant it, Anna. I meant it.

Anna: I don't under…

Etienne: I'm saying I'm in love wi ~ Stephanie Perkins

When I come back, the club is packed. There's hardly any standing room. Anna snagged a wooden bar stool, one of the few seats here. St. Clair stands close to her, facing her, and he smoothes the platinum stripe in her hair. She pulls him even closer by the top of his jeans, one finger tucked inside. It's an intimate gesture. I'm embarrassed to watch, but I can't look away.
He kisses her slowly and deeply. They don't care that anyone could watch. Or maybe they've forgotten they aren't alone. When they break apart, Anna says something that makes him fall into silly, boyish laughter. For some reason, that's the moment that makes me turn away. Something about their love is painful. ~ Stephanie Perkins

I risk a glance, and St. Clair stares back. Deeply. He has not looked at me like this before. I turn away first, then feel him turn a few beats later.
I know he is smiling, and my heart races. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Drone strikes, Albert Camus would argue, are not just meant to kill. They are programmed to terrorize. In this regard, whether the missile strikes its intended target or incinerates a goat-herder and his flock is incidental. In fact, the occasional killing of civilians may well be a desired outcome since collateral deaths intensify the fear. This is punishment by example, not for any particular crime or impending threat, but merely because of who you are, where you live, what you might believe. These new circuitries of death are meant to humiliate, subdue and dehumanize. ~ Jeffrey St. Clair

What's that?"
"My friend St. Clair bought it for me. So I wouldn't feel out of place."
She raises her eyebrows as she pulls back onto the road. "Are there a lot of Canadians in Paris?"
My face warms. "I just felt,you know, stupid for a while. Like one of those lame American tourists with the white sneakers and the cameras around their necks? So he bought it for me, so I wouldn't feel....embarrassed. American."
"Being American is nothing to be ashamed of," she snaps.
"God,Mom,I know.I just meant-forget it."
"Is this the English boy with the French father?"
"What does that have anything to do with it?" I'm angry. I don't like what she's implying. "Besides,he's American. He was born here? His mom lives in San Francisco. We sat next to each other on the plane."
We stop at a red light.Mom stares at me. "You like him."
"OH GOD,MOM."
"You do.You like this boy."
"He's just a friend.He has a girlfriend."
"Anna has a boooy-friend," Seany chants.
"I do not!"
"ANNA HAS A BOOOY-FRIEND!"
I take a sip of coffee and choke. It's disgusting. It's sludge. No, it's worse than sludge-at least sludge is organic. Seany is still taunting me. Mom reaches around and grabs his legs,which are kicking her seat again.She sees me making a face at my drink.
"My,my. Once semester in France, and suddenly we're Miss Sophisticated. Your father will be thrilled."
Like it was my choice! Like I asked to go to Paris! And how dare s ~ Stephanie Perkins

What's the worst that could happen?"
"Don't say that!" Bess and Corwin yelled at the same time.
"You two are so superstitious. ~ Georgette St. Clair

Did I ever tell you I went to school in America?"
"What? No."
"It's true,for a year. Eighth grade. It was terrible."
"Eighth grade is terrible for everyone," I say.
"Well,it was worse for me. My parents had just seperated,and my mum moved back to California.I hadn't been since I was an infant,but I went with her,and I was put in this horrid public school-"
"Oh,no. Public school."
He nudges me with his shoulder. "The other kids were ruthless. They made fun of everything about me-my height,my accent, the way I dressed.I vowed I'd never go back."
"But American girls love English accents." I blurt this without thinking, and then pray he doesn't notice my blush.
St. Clair picks up a pebble and tosses it into the river. "Not in middle school, they don't.Especially when it's attached to a bloke who comes up to their kneecaps."
I laugh.
"So when the year was over,my parents found a new school for me. I wanted to go back to London,where my mates were, but my father insisted on Paris so he could keep an eye on me. And that's how I would up at the School of America. ~ Stephanie Perkins

You're fixing everything I set down." He nods at my hands, which are readjusting the elephant. "It wasn't polite of me to come in and start touching your things."
"Oh,it's okay," I say quickly, letting go of the figurine. "You can touch anything of mine you want."
He freezes. A funny look runs across his face before I realize what I've said. I didn't mean it like that.
Not that that/i> would be so bad.
But I like Toph,and St. Clair has a girlfriend. And even if the situation were different, Mer still has dibs. I'd never do that to her after how nice she was my first day.And my second. And every other day this week.
Besides,he's just an attractive boy. Nothing to get worked up over. I mean, the streets of Europe are filled with beautiful guys, right? Guys with grooming regimens and proper haircuts and stylish coats.Not that I've seen anyone even remotely as good-looking as Monsieur Etienne St.Clair.But still.
He turns his face away from mine. Is it my imagination or does he look embarrassed? But why would he be embarrassed? I'm the one with the idiotic mouth.
"Is that your boyfriend?" He points to my laptop's wallpaper, a photo of my coworkers and me goofing around. It was taken before the midnight release of the lastest fantasy-novel-to-film adaptation. Most of us were dressed like elves or wizards. "The one with his eyes closed?"
"WHAT?" He thinks I'd date a guy like Hercules Hercules is an assistant manager. He's ten years older th ~ Stephanie Perkins

Well,Anna.It's Matt or the minivan. I'm not making the choice for you."
I choose my ex.We used to be good friends,so I'm sort of looking forward to seeing him again. And maybe Cherrie isn't as bad as I remember.Except she is. She totally is. After only five minutes in her company,I cannot fathom how Bridge stands sitting with her at lunch every day.She turns to look at me in the backseat,and her hair swishes in a vitamin-enriched, shampoo-commercial curtain. "So.How are the guys in Paris?"
I shrug. "Parisian."
"Ha ha.You're funny."
Her lifeless laugh is one of her lesser attributes.What does Matt see in her?
"No one special?" Matt smiles and glances at me through the rearview mirror. I'm not sure why,but I forgot that he has brown eyes.Why do they make some people look amazing and others completely average? It's the same with brown hair. Statistically speaking, St. Clair and Matt are quite similar. Eyes: Brown. Hair: Brown. Race: Caucasian. There's a significant difference in height,but still. It's like comparing a gourmet truffle to a Mr. Goodbar.
I think about the gourmet truffle. And his girlfriend. "Not exactly. ~ Stephanie Perkins

I'm here." St. Clair is angry. "I'm just sorry I'm not there. With you. I wish there was something I could do."
"Wanna come beat her up for me?"
"I'm packing my throwing stars right now."
I sniffle and wipe my nose. "I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I thought he liked me.That's the worst part, knowing he was never even interested."
"Bollocks.He was interested."
"No,he wasn't," I say. "Bridge said so."
"Because she's jealous! Anna, I was there that first night he called you. I've seen how he looked at you in pictures." I protest,but he interrupts. "Any bloke with a working prick would be insane not to like you."
There's a shocked pause,on both ends of the line.
"Because,of course,of how intelligent you are. And funny.Not that you aren't attractive.Because you are. Attractive. Oh,bugger..."
I wait.
"Are you still there,or did you hang up because I'm such a bleeding idiot?"
"I'm here."
"God,you made me work for that."
St. Clair said I'm attractive.That's the second time.
"You're so easy to talk to," he continues, "that sometimes I forget you're not one of the guys."
Scratch that. He thinks I'm Josh. "Just drop it. I can't take being compared to a guy right now-"
"That's not what I meant-"
"How's your mom? I'm sorry, I've hogged ur entire conversation,and this was supposed to be about her,and I didn't even ask-"
"You did ask. It was the first thing you said when you answered. And technical ~ Stephanie Perkins

Black New Yorkers' distressing personal accounts of poverty and unemployment, inadequate housing, white supremacy and state-sanctioned violence politicized St. Clair, leading her to become one of New York's staunchest yet most unlikely voices against urban inequity. ~ LaShawn Harris

That guys. Sideburns. You like him?"
My back squirms. "You've asked me that before."
"What I meant was," he says, flustered. "Your feelings haven't changed? Since you've been here?"
It takes a moment to consider the question. "It's not a matter of how I feel," I say at last. "I'm interested, but ... I don't know if he's still interested in me."
St. Clair edges closer. "Does he still call?"
"Yeah. I mean, not often. But yes."
"Right. Right, well," he says, blinking. "There's your answer. ~ Stephanie Perkins

He shakes his head. His dark messy hair has a few curls in it today.It's quite breathtaking,really.If there were an Olympics competition in hair, St. Clair would totally win,hands down. Ten-point-oh.Gold medal. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Speaking of which," he murmured.
Hyacinth's mouth fell open as he dropped down to one
knee. "What are you doing?" she squeaked, frantically
looking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peeking
out at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.
"Someone will see," she whispered.
He seemed unconcerned. "People will say we're in
love."
"I - " Good heavens, but how did a woman argue
against that?
"Hyacinth Bridgerton," he said, taking her hand in his,
"will you marry me?"
She blinked in confusion. "I already said I would."
"Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.
They were mostly the right reasons, but not all."
"I - I - " She was stumbling on the words, choking on
the emotion.
He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear and
blue in the dim light of the streetlamps. "I am asking you
to marry me because I love you," he said ~ Julia Quinn

Emily Zola.That's only the second woman I've seen down here. What's up with that?"
But before St. Clair can answer, the grating voice says, "It's Emile." We turn around to find a smug guy in a Euro Disney sweatshirt. "Emile Zola is a man."
My face burns. I reach for St. Clair's arm to pull us away again,but St. Clair is already in his face. "Emile Zola was a man," he corrects. "And you're an arse. Why don't you mind your own bloody business and leave her alone! ~ Stephanie Perkins

What idiot told you the law was concerned with morality? ~ V. St. Clair

Regret is an ugly companion and I'm really tired of its company. ~ Iris St. Clair

And I realize ... it's okay. It's okay if St. Clair and I never become more than friends. His friendship alone has strengthened me in a way that no one
else's ever has. He swept me from my room and showed me independence. In other words, he was exactly what I needed. I won't forget it. And I certainly
don't want to lose it. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Your grandparents are English?"
"Grandfather is,but Grandmere is French. And my other grandparents are American,of course."
"Wow.You really are a mutt."
St. Clair smiles. "I'm told I take after my English grandfather the most, but it's only because of the accent."
"I don't know.I think of you as more English than anything else.And you don't just sound like it,you look like it,too."
"I do?" He surprised.
I smile. "Yeah,it's that...pasty complexion. I mean it in the best possible way," I add,at his alarmed expression. "Honestly."
"Huh." St. Clair looks at me sideways. "Anyway.Last summer I couldn't bear to face my father, so it was the first time I spent the whole holiday with me mum."
"And how was it? I bet the girls don't tease you about your accent anymore."
He laughs. "No,they don't.But I can't help my height.I'll always be short."
"And I'll always be a freak,just like my dad. Everyone tells me I take after him.He's sort of...neat,like me."
He seems genuinely surprised. "What's wrong with being neat? I wish I were more organized.And,Anna,I've never met your father,but I guarantee you that you're nothing like him."
"How would you know?"
"Well,for one thing,he looks like a Ken doll.And you're beautiful."
I trip and fall down on the sidewalk.
"Are you all right?" His eyes fill with worry.
I look away as he takes my hand and helps me up. "I'm fine.Fine!" I say, brushing the grit from my palms. Oh my ~ Stephanie Perkins

Back to that very first bite of hidden cupcake in the pantry: a soft cap of vanilla buttercream giving way to light, creamy mocha cake. I kept eating, turning the cupcake slowly in my hand. This was not rich, one-bite-and-you-couldn't-possibly-have-more chocolate. This was refined, complex chocolate cut with a hint of coffee and what else... Currant? Salt? A grown-up, masterful cupcake. It was perfect. ~ Meg Donohue

I touched myself while I watched you, wishing it was me in her place. And I came…crying because it broke my heart that it wasn't. ~ Sayara St. Clair

St. Clair: So did you enjoy the book?
Anna: I did. Did you?
St. Clair: I like the author's name the best. Ba-nah-na. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Any girl faced with daily attention from a gorgeous boy with a cute accent and perfect hair would be hard-pressed not to develop a big,stinking, painful,all-the-time,all consuming crush.
Not that that's what's happening to me.
Like I said.It's a relief to know it won't happen. It makes things easier. Most girls laugh too hard at his jokes and find excuses to gently press his arm. To touch him.Instead,I argue and roll my eyes and act indifferent. And when I touch his arm,I shove it.Because that's what friends do.
Besides,I have more important things on my mind: movies.
I've been in France for a month, and though I have ridden the elevators to the top of La Tour Eiffel (Mer took me while St. Clair and Rashmi waited below on the lawn-St. Clair because he's afraid of falling and Rashmi because she refuses to do anything touristy), and though I have walked the viewing platform of L'Arc de Triomphe (Mer took me again,of course, while St. Clair stayed below and threatened to push Josh and Rashmi into the insane traffic circle),I still haven't been to the movies.
Actually,I have yet to leave campus alone. Kind of embarrassing.
But I have a plan.First,I'll convince someone to go to a theater with me. Shouldn't be too difficult; everyone likes the movies.And then I'll take notes on everything they say and do, and then I'll be comfortable going back to that theater alone.A ~ Stephanie Perkins

Those men aren't fucking men. They're pansy-ass rich boys who think they own the fucking world. They wouldn't know a real Dom from their asshole on their best day. ~ Sai Marie Johnson

But Sunday morning, things change. When we wake up, St. Clair stretches and accidentally smacks my boobs. Which not only hurts but also mortifies us both equally. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Vergil waited no longer. He took Boris's sword and plunged it into his chest. Boris went limp gently, as if he were drifting into a nap. Vergil held on to the sword for a second, and then pulled it out of the fallen angel, clutching it with fervor. Sadly, I realized that this wouldn't be the last time great force would have to be used against my fellow angels. I had no words for the rest of them in the Fellowship Hall. My optimism was very low and I saw no sign of the situation getting better. God's angelic host was divided. My friends, scattered. Lucifer's army was intimidating and many of his soldiers were dispersed among us, ready to strike at our most vulnerable moments. I myself was unsure how we were going to succeed. But one thing I did know - we all needed to pray. Unlike Lucifer, I needed God in my life. ~ Julius St. Clair

Everyone's here except for St. Clair." Meredith cranes her neck around the cafeteria. "He's usually running late."
"Always," Josh corrects. "Always running late."
I clear my throat. "I think I met him last night. In the hallway."
"Good hair and an English accent?" Meredith asks.
"Um.Yeah.I guess." I try to keep my voice casual.
Josh smirks. "Everyone's in luuurve with St. Clair."
"Oh,shut up," Meredith says.
"I'm not." Rashmi looks at me for the first time, calculating whether or not I might fall in love with her own boyfriend.
He lets go of her hand and gives an exaggerated sigh. "Well,I am. I'm asking him to prom. This is our year, I just know it."
"This school has a prom?" I ask.
"God no," Rashmi says. "Yeah,Josh. You and St. Clair would look really cute in matching tuxes."
"Tails." The English accent makes Meredith and me jump in our seats. Hallway boy. Beautiful boy. His hair is damp from the rain. "I insist the tuxes have tails, or I'm giving your corsage to Steve Carver instead."
"St. Clair!" Josh springs from his seat, and they give each other the classic two-thumps-on-the-back guy hug.
"No kiss? I'm crushed,mate."
"Thought it might miff the ol' ball and chain. She doesn't know about us yet."
"Whatever," Rashi says,but she's smiling now. It's a good look for her. She should utilize the corners of her mouth more often.
Beautiful Hallway Boy (Am I supposed to call him Etienne or St. Clair?) ~ Stephanie Perkins