Not knowing you can't do something, is sometimes all it takes to do it.
She'd absolutely adored the library_an entire building where anyone could take things they didn't own and feel no remorse about it.
I don’t understand hate. I’ve seen its power. I’ve known its wrath. I’ve even felt it coursing through my veins, pushing me on. But I don’t know where it comes from or why it lasts, how it can take hold in some people and grow.
The older I got, the smarter my teachers became.
Acting like you don’t care is a whole lot easier when you don’t care
Your memory is your first and best weapon, ladies. Learn to use it.
It is an occupational hazard that anyone who has spent her life learning how to lie eventually becomes bad at telling the truth.
What are you looking at? Hale asked. Why are you smiling? I worry when you smile.
Because even though the truth can set you free, that doesn't mean it won't be painful.
So I stepped away, reminding myself that when you're a spy, sometimes all you can do is go on. One foot in front of the other, wherever the narrow path might lead.
Sometimes it takes an outsider, someone with fresh eyes to see the truth.
Denying the undeniable just makes you sound like a fool as well as a liar.
Don't let two men fall in love with you, girls. It's not the sort of thing that ends well." -Uncle Charles
Even the best thief in the world can't steal time.
...nothing ever happens quickly (except when it does). Nothing is ever, ever easy (except when it is). And, most of all, nothing ever goes perfectly according to plan (except in the movies).
It’s the people you hold closest who have the most power to make you bleed.
It was epic. It was awkward. It was epically awkward.
Sometimes the biggest lies we tell are to ourselves.
Zach walked away, but I stood there for a long time, wondering if I should go to my mother; if I should go to my friends; but instead I slipped into the corridors I hadn't used in months, pushed my way through cobwebs and darkness, trying to walk away from the tears that burned hot down my cheeks, because maybe I didn't want to admit weakness; maybe I wanted to wallow in my solitude and grief. Or maybe crying is like everything else we do—it's best if you don't get caught.
A Gallagher Girl's real grades don’t come in pass or fail—they're measured in life or death.
Pretend and it will be true.
And yet, she knew she could be.
Ooh, the silent treatment.
Like many authors, I caught the writing bug during my teenage years. I don't remember the exact day or year, but I remember that reading S.E. Hinton's 'The Outsiders' sparked my interest in writing.
I never knew there were this many stars." "I can't see them," he told me. "I just see you." "That's one of your cheesier lines," I told him. "It's the altitude," he told me. "I don't have enough oxygen in my brain." "I see.
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