Lara Jean Song Covey Quotes

Music makes everything more romantic, doesn't it? One second you're walking your dog in the suburbs, and then you put on Adele, and it's like you're in a movie and you've just had your heart brutally broken. ~ Jenny Han

We broke so easily. Like it was nothing. Like we were nothing. Does that mean it was never meant to be in the first place? That we were an accident of fate? If we were meant to be, how could we both walk away like that? ~ Jenny Han

I know most sisters don't get along, but I'm closer to Margot than I am to anybody in the world. How can we be the Song girls without Margot? ~ Jenny Han

How about whatever song comes on next, that's our song. It'll be fate."
"We can't just make our own fate."
"Sure we can." Peter reaches over to turn on the radio.
"Wait! Just any radio station? What if it's not a slow song?"
"Okay so we'll put on Lite 101." Peter hits the button.
"Winnie the Pooh doesn't know what to do, got a honey jar stuck on his nose," a woman croons.
Peter says, "What the hell?" as I say, "This can't be our song."
"Best out of three?" he suggests.
"Let's not force it. We'll know it when we hear it, I think."
"Maybe we'll hear it at the prom," Peter offers. "Oh, that reminds me. What color is your dress? My mom's going to ask her florist friend to make your corsage."
"It's dusty pink." It came in the mail yesterday, and when I tried it on for everybody, Trina said it was "the most Lara Jean" dress she'd ever seen. I texted a picture to Stormy, who wrote back, "Ooh-la-la," with a dancing woman emoji.
"What the heck is dusty pink?" Peter wants to know.
"It's like a rose gold color." Peter still looks confused, so I sigh and say, "Just tell your mom. She'll know. ~ Jenny Han

God, what makes you such an expert on love? You've liked five guys in your life. One was gay, one lives in Indiana or Montana or some place, McClaren moved away before anything could actually happen, one was dating your sister. And then there's me. Hmm, what do we all have in common? What's the common denominator?"
I feel all the blood rush to my face. "That's not fair."
Peter leans in close and says, "You only like guys you don't have a shot with, because you're scared. What are you so scared of?"
I back away from him, right into the wall. "I'm not scared of anything."
"The hell you're not. You'd rather make up a fantasy version of somebody in your head than be with a real person."
I glare at him. "You're just mad because I didn't die of happiness because the great Peter Kavinsky said he liked me. Your ego really is that enormous."
His eyes flash. "Hey, I'm sorry I didn't show up on your doorstep with flowers and profess my undying love for you, Lara Jean, but guess what, that's not real life. You need to grow up."
That's it. I don't have to listen to this. I turn on my heel and walk away. Over my shoulder I say, "Enjoy the hot tub."
"I always do," he calls back. ~ Jenny Han

I like him in sweaters. I get the urge to cuddle and pet him like a stuffed animal. ~ Jenny Han

Pack light and figure the rest out as you go ~ Jenny Han

Margot doesn't see the point in wondering. This is our life; there's no use in asking what if. ~ Jenny Han

With his fair hair and milky skin and rosy cheeks, he looks like he could be an English farmer's son. But he's slim, so maybe the sensitive farmer's son who steals away to the barn to read. ~ Jenny Han

When you enter the realm of politics, you don't enter it because you want to be popular. When I want to be popular, I pull on a guitar and sing a song. ~ Wyclef Jean

Hey, Large," Gabe says, flicking me with his towel. "Where you been all day?"
"I've been around." I look over at Peter, but he won't meet my eyes. "I saw you guys on the slopes."
Darrell says, "Then why didn't you holler at us? I wanted to show off my ollies for you."
Teasingly I say, "Well, I called Peter's name, but I guess he didn't hear me."
Peter finally looks me in the eyes. "Nope. I didn't hear you." His voice is cold and indifferent and so un-Peterlike, the smile fades from my face.
Gabe and Darrell exchange looks like oooh and Gabe says to Peter, "We're gonna head out to the hot tub," and they trot off.
Peter and I are left standing in the lobby, neither of us saying anything. I finally ask, "Are you mad at me or something?"
"Why would I be mad?"
And then it's back to quiet again.
I say, "You know, you're the one who talked me into coming on this trip. The least you could do is talk to me."
"The least you could do was sit next to me on the bus!" he bursts out.
My mouth hangs open. "Are you really that mad that I didn't sit next to you on the bus?"
Peter lets out an impatient breath of air. "Lara Jean, when you're dating someone, there are just…certain things you do, okay? Like sit next to each other on a school trip. That's pretty much expected."
"I just don't see what the big deal is," I say. How can he be this mad over such a tiny thing?
"Forget it." He turns like he's going to leave, and I grab ~ Jenny Han

He texts back: I love you.
I'm starting to text back, I love you, too, when my phone rings. It's Peter's house number, and I answer it eagerly.
"I love you, too," I say.
There is surprised silence on the other end, then a little laugh to cover it up. "Hi, Lara Jean. This is Peter's mom. ~ Jenny Han

I take a deep breath. "Okay. I can live with that. I mean, who cares about a hot makeout, right? That's just part of life, right? And you can barely even see my face? You'd have to really know me to know it was me. My full name isn't on here anywhere, just Lara Jean. There must be a ton of Lara Jeans, right? Right?" Margot ~ Jenny Han

Where were you this morning?" Peter demands.
I cross my arms and try to stand tall. It's hard, because I'm so short and he really is tall. "You're one to talk."
Peter huffs, "At least I texted you! I've called you like seventeen times. Why is your phone off?"
"You know we're not allowed to have our phones on at school!"
He huffs, "Lara Jean, I waited in front of your house for twenty minutes."
Yikes. "Well, I'm sorry."
"How'd you get to school? Sanderson?"
"Yes."
Peter exhales. "Listen, if you were pissed I couldn't come over last night, you should've just called and said so instead of the shit you pulled this morning."
In a small voice I say, "Well, what about that shit you pulled last night?"
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Did you just say 'shit'? It sounds really funny coming out of your mouth. ~ Jenny Han

When I want to be popular, I pull on a guitar and sing a song. Pras did not affect me because, in the realm of politics, he has never stood up for anything. ~ Wyclef Jean

Everyone is saying how we had sex in the hot tub and I'm a slut and you don't even care!"
"I told the guys we didn't!"
"Did you? Did you tell them that all we did was kiss and that's all we've ever done?" Peter hesitates, and I go on. "Or did you say, 'Guys, we didn't have sex in the hot tub,' wink wink, nudge nudge."
Peter glares at me. "Give me a little more credit than that, Covey."
"You're such a scumbag, Kavinsky."
I spin around. There is Josh, in the doorway, glaring at Peter.
"It's your fault people are saying that crap about Lara Jean." Josh shakes his head in disgust. "She'd never do that."
"Keep your voice down," I whisper, my eyes darting around. This is not happening right now. At recital party, with everyone I've ever known my whole entire life in the next room.
Peter's jaw twitches. "This is a private conversation, Josh, between me and my girlfriend. Why don't you go play World of Warcraft or something. Or maybe there's a Lord of the Rings marathon on TV."
"Fuck you, Kavinsky," Josh says. I gasp. To me Josh says, "Lara Jean, this is exactly what I've been trying to protect you from. He's not good enough for you. He's only bringing you down."
Beside me Peter stiffens. "Get over it! She doesn't like you anymore. It's over. Move on."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Josh says.
"Whatever, dude. She told me you tried to kiss her. You try that again, and I'm kicking your ass. ~ Jenny Han

Lara Jean?"
"Yes?"
I peek around the door and it's Lucas Krapf, wearing a thin V-neck sweater in brilliant blue and stone-colored khakis. "I've had this for a while now…I wans't going to say anything, but then I thought maybe you'd want it back." He puts a pink envelope in my hand. It's my letter. So Lucas got his, too.
I drop it into my locker, make a yikes face at myself in the mirror, and then close the door. "So you're probably wondering what this is all about," I begin. And then I immediately falter. "It's um, well, I wrote it a long time ago, and--"
"You don't have to explain."
"Really? You're not curious?"
"No. It was just really nice to get a letter like that. I was actually pretty honored."
I let out a relieved sigh and sag against my locker. Why is Lucas Krapf just so exactly right? He knows how to say the perfect thing.
And then Lucas gives me a half grimace, half smile. "But the thing is…" He lowers his voice. "You know I'm gay, right?"
"Oh, right, totally," I say, trying not to sound disappointed. "No, I totally knew." So Peter was right after all.
Lucas smiles. "You're so cute," he says, and I perk up again. Then he says, "Listen, can you not tell anybody, though? I mean, I'm out, but I'm not out out yet. You know what I mean?"
"Totally," I say, super confident. ~ Jenny Han

Blot out the moon,
Pull down the stars.
Love in the dark, for we're for the dark
So soon, so soon. ~ Jean Rhys

I'll need your guys's help with the proposal," Daddy says. "Lara Jean, I'm sure you'll have some ideas for me, right?"
Confidently I say, "Oh, yeah. People have been doing promposals, so I have lots of inspiration."
Margot turns to me and laughs, and it almost sounds real. "I'm sure Daddy will want something more dignified than 'Will You Marry Me' written in shaving cream on the hood of somebody's car, Lara Jean. ~ Jenny Han

Why do you always call me by my full name?"
"I don't know. I guess that's how I think of you in my head."
"Oh, so you're saying you think about me a lot?"
I laugh. "No, I'm saying that when I think about you, which isn't very often, that's how I think of you. On the first day of school, I always have to explain to teachers that Lara Jean is my first name and not just Lara. And then, do you remember how Mr. Chudney started calling you John Ambrose because of that? 'Mr. John Ambrose.'"
In a fake hoity-toity English accent, John says, "Mr. John Ambrose McClaren the Third, madam."
I giggle. I've never met a third before. "Are you really?"
"Yeah. It's annoying. My dad's a junior, so he's JJ, but my extended family still calls me Little John." He grimaces. "I'd much rather be John Ambrose than Little John. Sounds like a rapper or that guy from Robin Hood."
"Your family's so fancy." I only ever saw John's mom when she was picking him up. She looked younger than the other mothers, she had John's same milky skin, and her hair was longer than the other moms', straw-colored.
"No. My family isn't fancy at all. My mom made Jell-O salad last night for dessert. And, like, my dad only has steak cooked well-done. We only ever take vacations we can drive to. ~ Jenny Han

And then she caught the song. She fell upon it and music poured from the fiddle's hollow, bright and liquid like fire out of the heart of the earth. Pierre-Jean drew back and stood mesmerized. The room around Fin stirred as every ear bent to the ring of heartsong. It rushed through Fin and spread to the outermost and tiniest capillary reaches of her body. Her flesh sang. The hairs of her arms and neck roused and stood. She sped the bow across the strings. Her fingers danced on the fingerboard quick as fat raindrops. Every man in the room that night would later swear that there was a wind within it. They would tell their children and lovers that a hurricane had filled the room, toppled chairs, driven papers and sheets before it and blew not merely around them but through them, taking fears, grudges, malice, and contempt with it, sending them spiraling out into the night where they vanished among the stars like embers rising from a bonfire.

And though the spirited cry of the fiddle's song blew through others and around the room and everything in it, Fin sat at the heart of it. It poured into her. It found room in the closets and hollow places of her soul to settle and root. It planted seeds: courage, resolve, steadfastness. Fin gulped it in, seized it, held it fast. She needed it, had thirsted for it all her days. She saw the road ahead of her, and though she didn't understand it or comprehend her part in it, she knew that she needed the ancient and reckless power o ~ A.S. Peterson

Everything was a song if you knew how to listen. ~ Jean Gill

I think artists are entitled to their songs. I'm very vocal and I understand that not everybody's gonna like me; it's not for everyone. ~ Jean Grae

The only thing I'll say is, make your own friends. Peter will be making tons of friends because of lacrosse, and the people he'll be friends with aren't necessarily the kinds of people you'd pick to be friends with. So make your own friends. Find your people. (Margot to Lara Jean) ~ Jenny Han

Triumphantly he says, Did you predict that, Lara Jean? ~ Jenny Han

Lara Jean, I think you half-fall in love with every person you meet. It's part of your charm. You're in love with love. ~ Jenny Han

Fighting isn't a good sign, Lara Jean. It means you still care. ~ Jenny Han

Lara Jean, why do you have to remember every little thing? It's not healthy. ~ Jenny Han

So much of love is chance. There's something scary and wonderful about that. ~ Jenny Han

If she says goodbye perhaps adieu. Adieu - like those old time songs she sang. Always adieu (and all songs say it). If she too says it, or weeps, I'll take her in my arms, my lunatic. She's mad but mine, mine. What will I care for gods or devils or for Fate itself. If she smiles or weeps or both. For me. ~ Jean Rhys

And then the great music of which the world is made took him over, beyond thought, beyond control until he heard her cry his name and they fell together off the edge of the world. ~ Jean Gill

I decided to do what I do when I was 2 years old. At 2 years old, you know, I heard the sound of a drum playing in the village, and I found my own drum and just picked it up and started playing, the worst song ever written by Wyclef Jean.But it actually started a vibe. ~ Wyclef Jean

I look at Kitty, who's braiding Chris's hair in microbraids. She's being extra quiet so we forget she's here and don't kick her out. 'I think that as long as you're ready and it's what you want to do and you're protecting yourself, then it's okay and you should do what you want to do.'
Margot says, 'Society is far too caught up in shaming a woman for enjoying sex and applauding a man. I mean, all of the comments are about how Lara Jean is a slut, but nobody's saying anything about Peter, and he's right there with her. It's a ridiculous double standard. ~ Jenny Han

We walk inside, and I stop short. Our booth, the one we always sit in, has pale pink balloons tied around it. There's a round cake in the center of the table, tons of candles, pink frosting with sprinkles and Happy Birthday, Lara Jean scrawled in white frosting. Suddenly I see people's heads pop up from under the booths and from behind menus--all of our friends, still in their prom finery: Lucas, Gabe, Gabe's date Keisha, Darrell, Pammy, Chris. "Surprise!" everyone screams.
I spin around. "Oh my God, Peter!"
He's still grinning. He looks at his watch. "It's midnight. Happy birthday, Lara Jean."
I leap up and hug him. "This is just exactly what I wanted to do on my prom night birthday and I didn't even know it." Then I let go of him and run over to the booth.
Everyone gets out and hugs me. "I didn't even know people knew it was my birthday tomorrow! I mean today!" I say.
"Of course we knew it was your birthday," Lucas says.
Darrell says, "My boy's been planning this for weeks."
"It was so endearing," Pammy says. "We called me to ask what kind of pan he should use for the cake."
Chris says, "He called me, too. I was like, how the hell should I know?"
"And you!" I hit Chris on the arm. "I thought you were leaving to go clubbing!"
"I still might after I steal some fries. My night's just getting started, babe." She pulls me in for a hug and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday, girl."
I turn to Peter and say, "I can't ~ Jenny Han