I miss something I never even had.
Home?' I say. It's a word that can mean anywhere and nowhere.
But I know all the things you're too sweet to know.
I wonder what it’s like for her, looking so much like a dead girl.
Humans are the absolute worst thing to happen to this planet.
She’s a commodity in a sea of broken girls.
There’s a limit to how much living can be done in a life without freedom.
Most dystopian, classic and contemporary, paints a future world that puts a twist on present society - a future world that could plausibly happen.
She's been conned, ruined, left for dead, and she's not going to forgive any of it. She will soldier on, if only out of spite.
Bet you never eat, he says. Bet you drink up the oxygen like it's butter. Bet you can go for days on nothing but thoughts.
It was my fifth grade teacher who introduced the idea that writing could be more than a hobby for me.
I was born into a world that was already dying; I belong to it.
She has the majesty of hurricanes and explosions.
Maybe hope isn't the most dangerous thing a person can have. Maybe love is.
We can change so many times in our lives. We're born into a family, and it's the only life we can imagine, but it changes. Buildings collapse. Fires burn. And the next second we're someplace else entirely, going through different motions and trying to keep up with this new person we've become.
I'm suddenly finding it hard to know the difference between nightmares and consciousness.
Hope, that risky, illustrious thing. It should have gone extinct by now, but we keep it alive.
Dystopian, by definition, promises a darker story.
Ah, love. That’s what the world has lost. There’s no more love, only the illusion of it.
I wanted so badly to tell him, but something about that entire night seemed so beautiful, so bizarre, that I didn't trust it with my secrets.
In the distance I see a lighthouse. The light washes over us and continues on its rotation. This time, I don't know where the light will guide us.
I can hear my brother's voice in my head. Your problem is that you're too emotional. But how can I not be emotional, Rowan? How can I not care?
It doesn't matter how much his mother loves him; love is not enough to keep any of us alive.
He kissed back, all the pages spread out around us like riddles waiting to be solved. Let them wait. Let my genes unravel, my hinges come loose. If my fate rests in the hands of a madman, let death come and bring its worse. I'll take the ruined craters of laboratories, the dead trees, this city with ashes in the oxygen, if it means freedom. I'd sooner die here than live a hundred years with wires in my veins.
And then I wonder, does my brother think of me this way? We entered this world together, one after the other, beats in a pulse. But I will be first to leave it. That's what I've been promised. When we were children, did he dare to imagine an empty space beside him where I then stood giggling, blowing soap bubbles through my fingers? When I die, will he be sorry that he loved me? Sorry that we were twins? Maybe he already is.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: