"Fools have a habit of believing that everything written by a famous authors is admirable. For my part I read only to please myself and like only what suits my taste." -Voltaire, Candide
"I'm pretty fearless," Annie replied. The puppets in her head fell all over themselves laughing.
"I Scamp, otherwise known as Genevieve Adelaide Josephine Brown, declare it a beee-u-tiful day!
She opened the door of the dumbwaiter, lowered her head, and uttered in a soft, creepy moan, "The horror..." The words uncoiled like a hissing snake. "The horrrror..."
She wanted to curtsy. To run. To tell him she didn't really need that governess job after all.
"It almost killed me seeing you that first day, Mags;" [...] I didn't know if you still want me,"
"I'll always choose you! I'll always want to be with you. I know I ruined everything you believed in, but you ruined me too!" I banged at my chest like a mad woman.
"We were one another's true match, and the science behind the tech proved that true matches were fiercely prossessive and protective of one another."
"Quentin was putting walls up I had never seen before"
Never forget. I know that you know.
"I'm not going to lie to you, you rate high on the bitch scale. You're mean, calculaed, unforgiving --the list goes on, but under all of that... there's a good person."
"Activate the mines."
"Activate the what?"
"I told you we were going to die,"
"Shit!" he yelled,
"I can't remember where all the mines are,"
"Did you hear that, Maggie? He can't remember where the mines are!"
a) poetry is
-anything you want it to be.
"i would like to eat
-healing is ongoing
"i hate you."
- his version of "I love you"
-The real meaning of self-respect."
"Tell me what it's like. The Race."
"What it's like is a battle. A mess of horses and men and blood."
"I'd always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself"
"I slam my locker closed, distracted. It echoes, so I cover my ears, dropping my book on the ugly, blue-tiled hallway floor." (Good god, why don't you put your hand to your forehead and faint right there)
"The laughter bubbles up in me like a scream." (huh...)
"He reaches for my hand. Needles. It feels like needles are coming out of his fingers, piercing my skin." (it's just skin contact, calm down)
"The tones continue to crescendo into a thunderous wake, the room shaking underneath me." (this is a freaking choir she's describing)
"My steps on the cement echo in my head like I'm stepping on steel drums."(ugh)
"My stomach jerks with the loud music and my head spins at the miffled voices and bass jammed together" (it's a damn HS party, chill the hell out)
"He's always been a quiet guy, surly, kind of crusty around the edges, like burnt toast." (lmao, burnt toast)
"The way everyone looks at me like I'm an elephant in the middle of a glaggle of geese" (In this scene literally nobody is paying her any special attention, but there you go anyway)
"The phone crackles with his breathing. It sounds intimate, like something I shouldn't be able to hear" (now breathing is intimate)
"The ride is smooth, like we're riding on piles of money." (wuuut? hahaha)
"She's dragged me to the mall. I know. I know. I'm a girl. I'm supposed to love the mall."
"The three slutketeers are not going to welcome me into their party." (Not even remotely funny)
"Most girls probably want to kiss guys."
"He's not my type at all. He's not rough around the edges. He's a goody-goody."
"When my heart's mission is to stop beating, I can't let anything get in the way, not even Mom and her big words I never thought she'd use."
"Now my bitter hands cradle broken glass of what was everything"
"All the love gone bad turned my world to black."
"I try to ignore the empty feeling that descends on me."
"I want it to hurt. I want to feel the pain."
"The chill feels good. I deserve to be cold."
"The more pain the better."
"It's all my fault."
"I'm selfish and I deserve to die."
"The bridge loomed in the distance. Mocking me with its height" (*snorts* now bridges mock you)
'Tell your boy to bring the sugar too'
'My boy? Er, yes. Off you go, George. Teas all round, please.'
'But George Cubbins? No. He bothered me. I made heroic efforts not to get annoyed with him that first day, but it wasn't humanly possible.
Take his appearance. There was something about it that acted as a trigger to one's worst instincts. His face was uniquely slappable -- a nun would have ached to punch him -- while his backside cried out to heaven for a well-placed kick. He slouched, he slumped, he scuffed his way about the house like something soft about to melt. His shirt was always untucked, his trainers extra-big, the laces trailing. I've seen reanimated corpses with better deportment than George.
And that flop of hair! And those silly glasses! Everything about him irritated me.'
'His flop of hair, his glossy, shapeless face, his silly little glasses: everything about him made me livid.'
'Well, it isn't hard to guess which colleague I favoured, as I lay awake that night under the attic eaves. On the one hand: Anthony Lockwood --vigorous and energetic, eager to throw himself into ech new mystery; a boy who was clearly never happier than when walking into a haunted room, his hand resting lightly on his sword hilt. On the other: George cubbins, handsome as a freshly opened tub of margarine, as charismatic as a wet tea towel lying scrumpled on the floor. I guessed he was never happier than when surrounded by dusty files and piled plates of food.'
"George stamped his great fat feet"
"...had his floor-plans spread out on his ample knee;"
"Now he picked it up and, with a chubby finger, indicated a point on the main wall of the house"
"George puffed out his ample cheeks."
"No, you just nudged it with your BFF! That's Big Fat Foot, by the way"
"Pity I can't close that fat mouth of yours here, Cubbins."
"He prodded the floor-plan with a stubby finger."
"Lockwood wore a long brown leather coat that emphasized his slimness and easy stride. George worse a hideous puffy jacket with high elasticated waistband that emphasized his bottom"
"George crammed his head inside his foul green bobble-hat."
"He wore and enormous pair of saggy blue pyjamas that were at least three sizes too big for him, and decorated with garish and ill-conceived spaceships and planes."
'With his glasses off, his eyes look small and weak - blinky and a bit baffled, like an unintelligent sheep that's taken a wrong turn.'
'... So what if he's got strange eyes? George's are pretty odd too, and we don't hold it against him.'
'Thanks for that,' George said. 'I thought they were my best feature.'
'They are --that's the tragedy of it.'
We'd been exposed to a whole range of sinister mists, sounds and odours, not all of them courtesy of George.
'This one's my room, and that's George's. I'd tread with caution there. I once walked in on him doing yoga in the nude.' With difficulty, I drove the image from my mind.
He pushed the plate my way. "Please. George'll only eat them all, else."
"Tell her about the biscuit rule," George said "Tell her, Lockwood. We'll have to get this straight or else there'll be hell to pay."
There was a profound silence, abruptly broken by an enormously loud rumble from George's stomach. Plaster didn't actually fall from the ceiling, but it was close.
'Sorry,' he said cheerfully. "Famished. I think I'll have another doughnut, if you don't mind. Any takers?' No one paid him any heed. He reached out for the plate.