Teen Literature Quotes

Quotes tagged as "teen-literature" Showing 1-11 of 11
Laura Anderson Kurk
“I thought back to Meg’s advice about Hemingway sentences—simple declarative statements that showed the truth and distilled the meaning. My first attempt at that had been cynical and messed up. I gave it a go again.
Find one lost sheep.
The angels rejoice.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“Quinn spoke their language—all mystery and inside jokes, scarred souls and statement shirts. It was a beautiful moment for him—in his element and completely happy.
When they started playing, he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “See that guitar?”
I nodded.
“That’s a 1969 Martin D28. Hear me when I say if I had to choose between a beautiful girl and that guitar, I’d choose the guitar. Natch.” He took a huge gulp of water, clearly affected.
“Naturally,” I whispered. “It could be why you’re still single.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“I needed out. The Jeep wasn’t fast enough. I shut it down, grabbed the keys and started running like a bear was at my heels. I couldn’t even see Henry anymore through my tears so it surprised me when he caught me in his arms halfway. The first thing I did was pound on his chest and ask him why he hadn’t called. The second thing I did was kiss him so hard he couldn’t answer me.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“My mom told me once that Wyatt loved her the way a boy will love his mother, but I loved her the way an artist loves another. Jo taught me what that meant.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“I really want to believe that when our Quiet Waters kids wake up in the middle of the night, scared, they’ll remember being in their bunks with John and Kate and Whit and me right there protecting them,” he said. “I hope we gave them that sense of belonging because I know there’ll be times in their lives when grasping at those bonds could mean the difference between making it and not.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“What I know about you, Henry,” he said. “Is that you, as big as you are, know how to walk gently on this earth.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“I worried I would miss it, and I knew, from losing Wyatt, that things happen the moment the soul is released. Wyatt had been there in the school, watching me, making sure I survived. Souls linger…they do. They linger a bit before they turn toward eternity. It could be that no matter how perfect their future will be, the past still tugs for a moment.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“He smiled and squinted at me again, tilting his head up and to the right as he stared. “Maybe what I’m attracted to in you is more than your looks and your brain and your humor.” He leaned closer like he had a secret. “It could be your soul,” he whispered.
I pushed his cheek until he was squinting at the door to the kitchen instead. “Is this when you tell me I’m your soul mate, O’Neill?”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“I get that. For you, it’s more than following a bunch of rules—no sex, no booze, no swear words, pray every night and twice on Sunday.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Laura Anderson Kurk
“I didn’t look at Thanet. I couldn’t because he would see the hurt on my face.
“He loves you,” Thanet said. “He’s hurting and it’s not just the Quinn thing. It’s being away from you and wondering if you’re hurting, too. Or if you’re having too much fun to hurt. What he really needed was to laugh, though. So we laughed…until he cried.”
That undid me. I looked at Thanet with so many questions on my lips.”
Laura Anderson Kurk, Perfect Glass

Kyla Stan
“Violet, wake up! You are not in some pre-colonial, pre-internet hellhole. WAKE UP! But no matter how many times she rubbed her eyes or pinched herself to the point of almost bleeding, she was still there, on that same dirt floor, on the same animal pelt, still trying not to look at that one boy.
Was she a captive to these people?
Was she some sort of prisoner?”
Kyla Stan, Poet Tongue