Top 119 Quotes & Sayings by Elizabeth Scott

So, you're telling me that no matter what, you can't be happy? Well, darling, it's no wonder you're miserable. It's what you want...So then try (to be happy).

I deserved the shaking and the headaches and the fact that every single time I took a breath I felt a squeezing in my chest, my heart beating even though I wished it wasn't.

Why do people think being with someone is the answer to everything?

My name is Danielle. I'm eighteen. I've been stealing things for as long as I can remember

I told you we were meant to be," he says, still smiling, still so Finn, who was always here but who I just didn't see and now-- Well, now I kiss him.

The truth is, I feel beyond sad. I feel empty. Numb.

It could be enough, maybe, or at least a start, but the problem is that at night I tumble into dreams that aren't dreams at all. I tumble into memories and wake up aching for a dying world and a quiet, cold life that offered me nothing but sitting in a still room.

Things... well, things suck sometimes. And sometimes you can fix it. And sometimes you can't. It's just the way it is.

Whatever happened to me just now has gotten to me, broken past the fragile shell I've built. More than my memory is gone. My soul has wings that beat to a heart I don't understand and I see things, feel things that I know aren't from here, but that are so real.

Just once, I wanted to lose something without the whole world watching.

I love the me I am with him. I’m the girl who has Dave. I’m Lauren, Dave’s girlfriend. I’m someone better than Lauren Smith, who no one noticed till Dave came along. The thing is, that girl isn’t me and I know it. But when I’m with him, I feel like I could be her. That if something in me was just–I don’t know, shifted a little or something, smoothed down–people would think of me the way they think of Dave, and everything would always be perfect. I would be perfect.

Imagine a guy. He’s a little taller than you, with perfect skin, skin that just screams “touch me!” and dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes and he looks so sweet and he is sweet. And then have him blush a little.

Little Alice, all hollowed out, so easy to smash into a million little pieces.

It's bullshit. It's so easy to label people, to look at a list of symptoms and say, "This is who you are. This is what you are.

Josh pulls me aside. "Hey, About before, I just... I wanted to say ... well, I think you're pretty special." He says, kind of stumbling over the words a little. Like he's hesitant to say them, now i wish he'd hug me again. And then kiss me. But he doesn't. He just waves and walks off. I sigh. "Hannah, I just... I want you to know if I pause alot when I tell you how special you are I want you to think that I'm... very... very... deep," Finn says

The story of my life can be told in silver: in chocolate mills, serving spoons, and services for twelve. The story of my life has nothing to do with me. The story of my life is things. Things that aren’t mine, that won’t ever be mine. It’s all I’ve ever known. I wish it wasn’t.

And you… do you know what you are?” “Stupid?” “Beautiful,” he says, his face turning red.

And yet here I am. Broken and bleeding on the inside, heartsick, I am here.

I don't eat bread.' Is she pouting? It's hard to tell. She's had a lot of chemicals injected into her face.

I do not fall. I fell so hard so long ago there is nothing left for me to land on. I just keep falling and falling and falling.

Are you reading?" I say. It's not that I don't think Finn can read or anything, but it's just - well, not what I expected to see. I figured Finn spent his time doing whatever it is guys who aren't Josh do when they aren't in school. Burping, or something. "Try not to look so surprised," Finn says. "I read. I can count to ten. Sometimes I can even spell my own name.

She looked at me for real and saw I was serious. She saw I knew she was for me like you know that tomorrow morning the sun will rise.

And what if---what are you if the people who are supposed to love you can leave you like you're nothing?

I want to care, but I don’t. I look at you and all I feel is tired.

love is...you get confused and you do stuff you don't mean to do-and you just-you hate yourself and sometimes you don't even want to love the person you do because it would be so much easier if you didn't.But you just-you just do.

The world will knock you down plenty. You don't need to be doing it to yourself.

I want to care, but I don't. I look at you and all I feel is tired. I walk through school and all I want to do is leave. I wake up in the morning and don't know why I'm here. I feel like I'm not real.

I think the way I feel when I look at Evan comes from her. In pictures taken the day she married my dad, she was reckless, laughing, spinning around in circles. She looked like her whole world was him. She looked a kind of happy I can't even imagine. I don't want that. I don't want to be like that. I don' want to feel the way she did because I know what happens when you do. You love with your whole heart, with everything, and you wake up one morning and kiss someone good-bye the way you always do except you mean it as good-bye forever.

I wish it had never happened because then I wouldn't think about it as I'm falling asleep.

All the things I've thought about love are true. It's beautiful and terrible and it doesn't make things perfect. It ends things, and it brings beginnings. This is mine.

Look at me. We aren´t them lauren. You´re not your mother or father any more than I´m my mother. You´re you and I´m me and I love you.

I heard how people sounded when their dreams were shattered, when their lives were turned into a waking nightmare.

I've been taught that love is beautiful and kind, but it isn't like that at all. It is beautiful, but it's a terrible beauty, a ruthless one, and you fall-you fall, and the thing is- The thing is you want to. You don't care what's coming you just want who your heart beats for.

The thing about hearts is that they always want to keep beating

My mother taught me to believe in silver, to believe in things, but I think it's more important to believe in me.

I-I don't usually go around throwing rocks at people's windows. Or saying that I've wanted to kiss you since your first day at work, when you wanted to know why we had three codes for fish sandwiches when we only sold one kind.

I'm so not interesting in having to try and make something out of foil." What, you didn't like the poncho with wraparound leggings?" It was beyond hideou- wait a minute. You watch that show?" My mom loves it." But your suppose to be sulking in the basement getting ready to light fires." What can I say? I'm a failure as a teenager. I watch TV with my mom.

Okay, I guess you can come in." "Um, Hannah, you have to, you know, open the front door so I can actually come in." "I thought you were going to - you're standing under my window. Aren't you supposed to climb up here or something?" "My ladder's at home. Also, you call throwing rocks at your window clichéd?

Talking about someone who makes you happy actually makes you happy.

But the past couple of days I’ve missed you so much it’s felt like missing you is all I am.

Do you really think he was flirting with me?" "Let's see. He gave you candy you hate - I saw your face - and a CD of songs..." He looks at the CD. "All of these are, like, twenty years old at least. Figures. Oh, and he groped your face. Sounds like true love to me.

Darling, the world doesn't owe you anything.

That's you, right?' he asks me. 'Yeah.' 'Cute. Not that I, uh, think little kids are cute. Just that you were cute. I mean, you can see how you turned out to be so...oh.

You tell yourself that you aren't something or that you can't be something, and you know what? It will become true. You have to decide who you are and what you can do and then go after what you want. Because believe me, no one is going to give it to you.

Things change. Stuff happens. Life goes on.

I love books. I like that the moment you open one and sink into it you can escape from the world, into a story that's way more interesting that yours will ever be.

And now I see what has been there all along, what I've noticed but never truly understood until now. Eli is as uncertain as I am, as we all are. Life has surprised him like it has me. Has hurt him like it has me.

Check it out. I got a new name tag today." He unclipped it and held it out toward me. I looked at it. "A. GUY." He grinned. "Someone actually asked me what the A stood for," he said, his hand brushing mine as he took the tag back, sliding it into his pocket. "I said Larry.

I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t think he’d ever really notice me, and in the end, he didn’t.

I see what grief does, how it strips you bare, shows you all the things you don't want to know. That loss doesn't end, that there isn't a moment where you are done, when you can neatly put it away and move on.

I think...I think sometimes that's how it is. Sometimes people have to go before you get stuff. Before you can really get it.

I always wanted to be grown up. When I was little I couldn’t wait to be a teenager and go to high school. When I got there I wanted to be done with it, wanted to get out into the world, the real one, and live in it. The thing is, that world doesn’t exist. All growing up means is that you realize no one will come along to fix things. No one will come along to save you.

Like a heart, and I wish mine wasn't beating.

I want to lie down on the bench then, or better yet, on the grass, rest on something living and see if I can hear the dead underneath.

What had been became what was and a story only works when you know the ending. When the people in it don’t seem like pretend. When you can think about that girl and how she was once upon a time, and see her. When you don’t already know the story is a lie.

Things end. People leave. And you know what? Life goes on. Besides, if bad things didn't happen, how would you be able to feel the good ones?

I’m always the one who doesn’t have a date, the one guys walk up to and say, “So, is your friend, you know, with someone?” and I may not be the only girl without someone, but it feels like it sometimes. A lot of the time.

How come you like Josh so much anyway? All he does is sit around drinking overpriced coffee and bitching about how awful things are" "He cares about the world." "If he cared about the world, he'd donate the ten thousand dollars he must spend on coffee every year to charity. That would be doing something.

You ready?" Evan asks, and he's looking at me, and I love his hair, I love his smile, I lo--"I Love You," I say, and as I watch his smile bloom I finally get how great those three little words are. I finally get what they really mean.

I'd dressed up and hoped and I was so tired of doing that, so tired of dreaming and being unable to stop it despite the fact that I'd seen, maybe better than anyone here, what dreams could do to you.