Kami Garcia (born March 25, 1972) is an American writer.
Some things are private, Ethan. Even for grown-ups.
I grabbed Aunt Prue's tiny hand, her fingers as small as bare twigs in winter. I closed my eyes and took her other hand, twisting my strong fingers together with her frail ones. I rested my forehead against our hands and closed my eyes. I imagined lifting my head up and seeing her smiling, the tape and tubes gone. I wondered if wishing was the same thing as praying. If hoping for something badly enough could make it happen.
I hadn't fallen through his arms. He was ripped from mine.
There were two kinds of people in our town. The stupid, and the stuck.
You couldn't unburn the books. You could only buy new ones.
I suppose I am a snob. I loathe towns. I loathe townspeople. They have small minds and giant backsides. Which is to say, what they lack in interiors they make up in posteriors.
If a girl says not to get her a birthday present that means get me a birthday present and make sure it's jewelry.
When she slept, she looked peaceful, beautiful. Not Lena's kind of beautiful, something different. She looked content - like a sunny day, a cold glass of milk, an unopened book before you cracked the binding.
The good and the bad, the sugar and the salt, the kicks and the kisses—what’s come before and what will come after, you and me—
Your bird drinks whiskey and eats tobacco?" The old man frowned. "Just be lad he doesn't like eatin' scrawny boys that don't know their way 'round the Otherworld.
You can't jump off a cliff when you have already fallen off a bigger one.
So why did I think about her every second? Why was I so much happier the minute I saw her? I felt like maybe I knew the answer, but how could I be sure? I didn't know, and I didn't have any way to find out. Guys don't talk about stuff like that. We just lie under the pile of bricks.
And you couldn’t control who you loved, even if you wanted to. That had been Genevieve’s problem with Ethan Carter Wate. It had been Uncle Macon’s problem with Lila, Link’s with Ridley. Probably even Ridley’s with Link. Love was how all these knots started to unravel in the first place.
Age-appropriate makeup? Who are you people? What makeup is age-appropriate for a seven-year-old?
I am a friend. I have in my possession two thousand assorted buttons, eight hundred keys, and only one friend. Perhaps it is not something you can understand. I have not often been one before. I will be now.
Even in the slippery blur of heat and arms and noise, Lena affected everything in her wake, a pull as powerful as the moon to the tides, or the planets to the sun. I was caught in her orbit, even as she pulled away from mine.
Maybe there isn't a meaning to life. Maybe there's only a meaning to living.
You can read minds, and you didn't tell me?” Link stared at me like he just found out I was the Silver Surfer. He rubbed his head nervously. “Hey, man, all that stuff about Lena? I was yankin’ your chain. ” He looked away. “Are you doin’ it now? You're doin’ it, aren't you? Dude, get out of my head. ” He backed away from me and into the bookshelf. “I can't read your mind, you idiot.
Sometimes things aren't what they seem and even a Seer can't see what's commin'.
Laws of physics laws of love of time and space and the (in)between place (in)between you and me and where we are lost and looking looking and lost