Hecate > Hecate's Quotes

“Love, the deadliest of all deadly things.
It kills you.
Alex.
When you have it.
Alex.
And when you don't.
Alex.”
― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium

“I told you," he whispers back. I can feel his breath just tickling the space behind my ear, making my hair prick up on my neck. "I like you."
"You don't know me," I say quickly.
"I want to, though.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“But how could anyone who's ever seen a summer - big explosion of green and skies lit up electric with splashy sunsets, a riot of flowers and wind that smells like honey - pick the snow?”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“That's the thing about faith. It works.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“And how she looked at me like I could save her from everything bad in he world.

This was my secret: she was the one who saved me”
― Lauren Oliver, Alex

“Everywhere he touches is fire. My whole body is burning up, the two of us becoming twin points of the same bright white flame.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“It was craziness. Amor deliria nervosa. The deadliest of all deadly things.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“We'll walk together holding hands, and kiss in broad daylight, and love each other as much as we want to, and no one will ever try to keep up apart.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“Everything has taken on a strange, distant quality - the sounds of running and shouting outside get warped and weird like they're being filtered through water, and Alex looks miles away. I start to think I might be dreaming, or about to pass out.
And then I decide I'm definitely dreaming, because as I'm watching, Alex starts peeling his shirt off over his head.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“His eyes are the color of honey. These are the eyes I remember from my dreams.”
― Lauren Oliver

“I don't know how i stay on my feet, why i don;t just shatter into dust right there, why my heart keeps beating when i want it so badly to stop”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“Maybe, the hope said. Maybe.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“You don’t have to be worried, okay? You don’t have to be scared.” His voice is twinkling again. “I’m not flirting with you.”
Embarrassment sweeps through me. Flirting. A dirty word. He thinks I think he’s flirting. “I’m not—I don’t think you were—I would never think that you—” The words collide in my mouth, and now I know there’s no amount of darkness that can cover the rush of red to my face.
He cocks his head to the side. “Are you flirting with me, then?”
“What? No,” I splutter. My mind is spinning blindly in a panic, and I realize I don’t even know what flirting is. I just know about it from textbooks; I just know that it’s bad. Is it possible to flirt without knowing you’re flirting? Is he flirting? My left eye goes full flutter.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“

“Would you like to?” he says. His voice is hardly audible above the wind—so low it’s barely a whisper.

“Would I like to what?” My heart is roaring, rushing in my ears, and though there are still several inches between his hand and mine, there’s a zipping, humming energy that connects us, and from the heat flooding my body you would think we were pressed together, palm to palm, face to face.

“Dance,” he says, at the same time closing those last few inches and finding my hand and pulling me closer, and at that second the song hits a high note and I confuse the two impressions, of his hand and the soaring, the lifting of the music.

We dance.

”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“That was the first time my world exploded.
The second time my world exploded, it was also because of a word. A word that worked its way out of my throat and danced onto and out of my lips before I could think about it, or stop it.
The question was: Will you meet me tomorrow?
And the word was: Yes.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“I’m frightened. This is how it starts. Even if he is cured, even if he is safe—the fact is, I’m not safe, and this is how it starts. Phase One: preoccupation; difficulty focusing; dry mouth; perspiration; sweaty palms; dizziness and disorientation. I feel a rushing blend of sickness and relief, a feeling like find out that everyone actually knows your worst secret, has known all along. All this time Aunt Carol was right, my teachers were right, my cousins were right. I’m just like my mother, after all. And the thing, the disease, is inside of me, ready at any moment to start working on my insides, to start poisoning me.
“I have to go.” I start up the hill again, nearly sprinting now, but again he comes after me.
“Hey. Not so fast.” At the top of the hill he reaches out and puts a hand on my wrist to stop me. His touch burns, and I jerk away quickly. “Lena. Hold on a second.”
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I stop. It’s the way he says my name: like music.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“When I'm running, there's always this split second when the pain is ripping through me and I can hardly breathe and all I see is colour and blur - and in that split second, right as the pain crests, and becomes too much, there's a whiteness going through me, I see something to my left, a flicker of colour (auburn hair, burning, a crown of leaves)-and I know then, too, that if I only turn my head he'll be there, laughing, watching me, holding out his arms.”
― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium

“I think of the quietness of Julian’s voice as he said I love you, the steadiness of his rib cage rising and falling against my back, as we sleep.
I love you, Julian. But the words don’t come.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem