Each day means a new twenty-four hours. Each day means everything's possible again. You live in the moment, you die in the moment, you take it all one day at a time.
He is beauty, inside and out. He is the silver lining in a world of darkness. He is my light.
Forever and ever, kid, until you're sick and tired of seeing me.
Love is illogical, love had consequences--I did this to myself, and I should be able to take it.
It is better to have an enemy who will fight you in an open field then a lover who will kill you in your sleep.
Now, as we stand three feet apart and stare at each other, I feel the full distance that comes with spending so much time apart, a moment filled with the electricity of a first meeting and the uncertainty of strangers.
I scream for everything that has gone wrong. I scream for everything broken in our lives.
The irony of life is that those who wear masks often tell us more truths than those with open faces.
I always knew, on some level, that I wouldn't live long. It's simply not written in my stars.
Where I come from, we're more about efficiency,' he replies. 'A knife like this'll skewer food, smear butter, and slit throats all at the same time.
Well enough,” I reply. “Remember, you’re drunk. And happy. You’re supposed to be lusting over your escort. Try smiling a little more.” Day plasters a giant artificial smile on his face. As charming as ever. “Aw, come on, sweetheart. I thought I was doing a pretty good job. I got my arm around the prettiest escort on this block—how could I not be lusting over you? Don’t I look like I’m lusting? This is me, lusting.” His lashes flutter at me. He looks so ridiculous that I can’t help laughing. Another passerby glances at me. “Much better.
No one wants you to be yourself. They want you to be the version of yourself that they like
He is not Enzo, I remind myself. But I don't want him to be. With Enzo, my energy yearned for his power and ambition, all too happy to let him take me into the darkness. But with Magiano... I am able to smile, even to laugh. I am able to sit here and lean back and point out the constellations.
Tell me there is still good in the world. Tell me there is still hope for all of us.
Mañana, me haré cargo de todo eso. Seré imparable. Pero esta noche, nos quedamos donde estamos, abrazadas, perdidas en la oscuridad.
Time heals all wounds. But not this one. Not yet.
And that’s when I realize that, at the end, we’d all wish for the same thing. Just a little more time.
A lot of the moments and experiences in 'Warcross' were inspired by specific moments that I remember as an intern working at Disney or having fun with my coworkers. A lot of it is very anecdotal.
We determine whether a book is for boys or girls long before the reader gets a chance to decide: we package them with soldiers and ballet slippers on their covers, war machines and glittering gowns.
Writing the first draft of a new story is incredibly difficult for me. I will happily do revisions, because once I can see the words on the page, I can go about ripping them up and moving scenes around. A blank page, though? Terrifying. I'm always angsty when I'm working my way through a first draft.
