Tucking Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
I said, somewhat confused, 'What's the problem?' [Kristy] rolled her eyes. Beside her, Monica said, 'Donneven.' 'Kristy.' Delia shook her head. 'This isn't the time or the place, okay?' 'The time or the place for what?' Caroline asked. 'There is never, ' Kristy said adamantly, 'a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.' 'Throbbing?' my mother said, leaning forward and looking at me. 'Who's throbbing?' 'Macy and Wes, ' Kristy told her. 'We are not, ' I said indignantly. 'Kristy, ' Delia said helplessly. 'Please God I'm begging you, not now.' 'Wait a second, wait a second.' Caroline held her hands up. 'Kristy. Explain.' 'Yes, Kristy, ' my mother said, but she was looking at me. Not really mad as much as confused. Join the club, I thought. 'Explain.' Bert said, 'This ought to be good.' Kristy ignored him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 'Wes wants to be with Macy. And Macy, whether she'll admit it or not, wants to be with Wes. And yet they're not together, which is not only unjust, but really, when you think about it, tragical.' 'That's not a word, ' Bert pointed out. 'It is now, ' she said. 'How else can you explain a situation where Wes, a truly extraordinary boy, would be sent packing in favor of some brainiac loser... ' 'Why, ' I said, feeling embarrassed, 'do we have to keep talking about this?' 'Because it's tragical!' Kristy said... 'I'll tell you what it is. It's wrong. You should be with Wes, Macy. The whole time you guys were hanging out, talking about how you were both with other people, it was so obvious to everyone. It was even obvious to Wes. You were the only one who couldn't see it, just like you can't see it now.' 'Mmm-hmm, ' Monica said aloud.

Sarah Dessen
People always, always talk about confidence, it's supposed to be such an attractive thing. I wonder why though, why is it supposed to be such an attractive thing? When confidence hides so many other things that are so much more beautiful! When you think of being confident, you think of tucking away all those other things that you consider to be nuisances; but those nuisances make up whom you are! And those nuisances are beautiful. They are beautiful and they are you and they're always going to be there, even when you try to cover them up! So what happens when they all come out one day? Are you going to feel like less of a person? Are the people who are supposed to love you, going to see you as less of a person? I say that it's not about going out into the world and putting on a certain face- it's just about going out into the world. I've gone out into the world! And I don't put on that face! Or any other face, as a matter of fact! I don't want to hide the way I play with my hair to feel more secure or the way I laugh at all the wrong times. I don't want to hide those things because those things are a part of me. And I can still go out into the world- and all alone, too! I know so, because I've actually done it! So more important than confidence- is serenity and acceptance. The serenity comes from having a deep acceptance of all those little things about you that add up like the trillions of molecules and atoms you are made up of! And that's just beautiful. Being beautiful is something rooted and strong; being confident is just a matter of putting on something that isn't even a real part of you. Falling in love with the molecules that make up your essence is so much more attractive. And maybe that's what confidence really means- the acceptance and belief in every single atom that you are.

C. JoyBell C.
Peeta, ' I say lightly. 'You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?' 'Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair... it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up, ' Peeta says. 'Your father? Why?' I ask. 'He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner, '' Peeta says. 'What? You're making that up!' I exclaim. 'No, true story, ' Peeta says. 'And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings... even the birds stop to listen.'' 'That's true. They do. I mean, they did, ' I say. I'm stunned and surprisingly moved, thinking of the baker telling this to Peeta. It strikes me that my own reluctance to sing, my own dismissal of music might not really be that I think it's a waste of time. It might be because it reminds me too much of my father. 'So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent, ' Peeta says. 'Oh, please, ' I say, laughing. 'No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knew-just like your mother-I was a goner, ' Peeta says. 'Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you.' 'Without success, ' I add. 'Without success. So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck, ' says Peeta. For a moment, I'm almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we're supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love not actually being in love. But Peeta's story has a ring of truth to it. That part about my father and the birds. And I did sing the first day of school, although I don't remember the song. And that red plaid dress... there was one, a hand-me-down to Prim that got washed to rags after my father's death. It would explain another thing, too. Why Peeta took a beating to give me the bread on that awful hollow day. So, if those details are true... could it all be true? 'You have a... remarkable memory, ' I say haltingly. 'I remember everything about you, ' says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 'You're the one who wasn't paying attention.' 'I am now, ' I say. 'Well, I don't have much competition here, ' he says. I want to draw away, to close those shutters again, but I know I can't. It's as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear, 'Say it! Say it!' I swallow hard and get the words out. 'You don't have much competition anywhere.' And this time, it's me who leans in.

Suzanne Collins
Honest to God, I hadn't meant to start a bar fight. 'So. You're the famous Jordan Amador.' The demon sitting in front of me looked like someone filled a pig bladder with rotten cottage cheese. He overflowed the bar stool with his gelatinous stomach, just barely contained by a white dress shirt and an oversized leather jacket. Acid-washed jeans clung to his stumpy legs and his boots were at least twice the size of mine. His beady black eyes started at my ankles and dragged upward, past my dark jeans, across my black turtleneck sweater, and over the grey duster around me that was two sizes too big. He finally met my gaze and snorted before continuing. 'I was expecting something different. Certainly not a black girl. What's with the name, girlie?' I shrugged. 'My mother was a religious woman.' 'Clearly, ' the demon said, tucking a fat cigar in one corner of his mouth. He stood up and walked over to the pool table beside him where he and five of his lackeys had gathered. Each of them was over six feet tall and were all muscle where he was all fat. 'I could start to examine the literary significance of your name, or I could ask what the hell you're doing in my bar, ' he said after knocking one of the balls into the left corner pocket. 'Just here to ask a question, that's all. I don't want trouble.' Again, he snorted, but this time smoke shot from his nostrils, which made him look like an albino dragon. 'My ass you don't. This place is for fallen angels only, sweetheart. And we know your reputation.' I held up my hands in supplication. 'Honest Abe. Just one question and I'm out of your hair forever.' My gaze lifted to the bald spot at the top of his head surrounded by peroxide blonde locks. 'What's left of it, anyway.' He glared at me. I smiled, batting my eyelashes. He tapped his fingers against the pool cue and then shrugged one shoulder. 'Fine. What's your question?' 'Know anybody by the name of Matthias Gruber?' He didn't even blink. 'No.' 'Ah. I see. Sorry to have wasted your time.' I turned around, walking back through the bar. I kept a quick, confident stride as I went, ignoring the whispers of the fallen angels in my wake. A couple called out to me, asking if I'd let them have a taste, but I didn't spare them a glance. Instead, I headed to the ladies' room. Thankfully, it was empty, so I whipped out my phone and dialed the first number in my Recent Call list. 'Hey. He's here. Yeah, I'm sure it's him. They're lousy liars when they're drunk. Uh-huh. Okay, see you in five.' I hung up and let out a slow breath. Only a couple things left to do. I gathered my shoulder-length black hair into a high ponytail. I looped the loose curls around into a messy bun and made sure they wouldn't tumble free if I shook my head too hard. I took the leather gloves in the pocket of my duster out and pulled them on. Then, I walked out of the bathroom and back to the front entrance. The coat-check girl gave me a second unfriendly look as I returned with my ticket stub to retrieve my things-three vials of holy water, a black rosary with the beads made of onyx and the cross made of wood, a Smith and Wesson.9mm Glock complete with a full magazine of blessed bullets and a silencer, and a worn out page of the Bible. I held out my hands for the items and she dropped them on the counter with an unapologetic, 'Oops.' 'Thanks, ' I said with a roll of my eyes. I put the Glock back in the hip holster at my side and tucked the rest of the items in the pockets of my duster. The brunette demon crossed her arms under her hilariously oversized fake breasts and sent me a vicious sneer. 'The door is that way, Seer. Don't let it hit you on the way out.' I smiled back. 'God bless you.' She let out an ugly hiss between her pearly white teeth. I blew her a kiss and walked out the door. The parking lot was packed outside now that it was half-past midnight. Demons thrived in darkness, so I wasn't surprised. In fact, I'd been counting on it.

Kyoko M.
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