Shadan R > Shadan's Quotes

“But if you were Matched," I say softly, "What do you think she'd be like?"
"You," he says, almost before I've finished. "You.”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“Cassia.
I know which life is my real one now, no matter what happens. It’s the one with you. For some reason, knowing that even one person knows my story makes things different. Maybe it’s like the poem says. Maybe this is my way of not going gentle.
I love you. (Ky Markham)”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“Ky can play this game. He can play all of their games, including the one in front of him that he just lost. He knows exactly how to play, and that's why he loses every time.”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“I came up on the screen, too, Cassia. But he was the one you chose to see.”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“His lips move silently, and I know what he says: the words of a poem that only two people in the world know.”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“What is it about your voice that
makes me want to hear you speak?”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“I love you."
lightning. Once it has forked, hot-white, from sky to earth, there is no going back.
It's time. I feel it, I know it. My eyes on him, his on me, and both of us breathing, watching, tired of of waiting. Ky close his eyes, but mine are still open. what will it feel like, his lips on mine? Like a secret told, a promise kept? Like that line in the poem-a shower of all my days- silvery rain falling all around me, where the lighting meets the earth?
The whistle blows below us and the moment breaks. We are safe.
For now.”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“Once you want something, everything changes.”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“Is falling in love with someone's story the same thing as falling in love with the person himself?”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“For a moment nothing happens. The figure stands still and I stand cold and alive and-
He starts to run. I make my way down the rocks, slipping, sliding, trying to get to the plain. I wish, I think, my feet clumsy, moving too fast, not fast enough, I wish i could run, I wish I'd written a whole poem, I wish I kept the compass-
And then I reach the plain and wish for nothing but what I have. Ky. Running toward me. I have never seen him run like this, fast, free, strong, wild. He looks so beautiful, his body moves so right. He stops just close enough for me to see the blue of his eyes and forget the red on my hands and the green I wish I wore. "You're here," he says, breathing hard and hungry. sweat and dirt cover his face, and he looks at me as though I'm the only thing he ever needed to see. I open my mouth to say yes. But I only have time to breathe in before he closes the last of the distance. All I know is the kiss.”
― Ally Condie, Crossed

“Everyone is asleep. They've all been asleep for years. You seemed ... awake.' Alex is whispering now. He closes his eyes, opens them again.'I'm tired of sleeping.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“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

“Who knows? Maybe they’re right. Maybe we are driven crazy by our feelings. Maybe love is a disease, and we would be better off without it.
But we have chosen a different road. And in the end that is the point of escaping the cure: We are free to choose.
We are even free to choose the wrong thing.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“I'd rather die on my own terms than live on theirs. I'd rather die loving Alex than live without him.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“Are you sure that being like everybody else will make you happy?"
"I don't know any other way."
"Let me show you."
And then we're kissing. Or at least, I think we're kissing—I've only seen it done a couple of times, quick closed-mouth pecks at weddings or on formal occasions. But this isn't like anything I've ever seen, or imagined, or even dreamed: this is like music or dancing but better than both.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“There are some losses we never get over.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“Most things, even the greatest movements on earth, have their beginnings in something small. An earthquake that shatters a city with a tremor, a tremble, a breath. Music begins with a vibration. The flood that rushed into Portland twenty years ago after nearly two months of straight rain, that hurtled up beyond the labs and damaged more than a thousand houses, swept up tire and trash bags and old, smelly shoes and floated them through the streets like prizes, that left a thin film of green mold behind, a stench of rotting and decay that didn't go away for months, began with a trickle of water, no wider than a finger, lapping up onto the docks. And
God created the whole universe from an atom no bigger than a thought. Grace's life fell apart because of a single word: sympathizer. My world exploded because of a different word: suicide. Correction: 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 need him to know that I came for him. I need him to know that somehow, at some point in the tunnels, I began to love him.”
― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium

“Everyone you trust, everyone you think you can count on, will eventually disappoint you.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“I’ll tell you another secret, this one for your own good. You may think the past has something to tell you. You may think that you should listen, should strain to make out its whispers, should bend over backward, stoop down low to hear its voice breathed up from the ground, from the dead places. You may think there’s something in it for you, something to understand or make sense of.
But I know the truth: I know from the nights of Coldness. I know the past will drag you backward and down, have you snatching at whispers of wind and the gibberish of trees rubbing together, trying to decipher some code, trying to piece together what was broken. It’s hopeless. The past is nothing but a weight. It will build inside of you like a stone.
Take it from me: If you hear the past speaking to you, feel it tugging at your back and running its fingers up your spine, the best thing to do—the only thing—is run.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“I'll find you," he says, watching me with the eyes I remember. "I won't let you go again”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“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

“Waste today, want tomorrow...”
― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium

“He is no longer mine to lose, but the grief is there, a gnawing sense of disbelief.”
― Lauren Oliver, Requiem

“Something must die so
that others can live.”
― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium

“I’ve been trying so hard not to think his name, not to even breathe the idea of him”
― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium

“Alex loved books. He was the one who first introduced me to poetry. That's another reason I can't read anymore.”
― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium

“Promise me we'll stay together, okay?" His eyes are once again the clear blue of a perfectly transparent pool. They are eyes to swim in, to float in, forever. "You and me."

"I promise," I say.

Behind us the door creaks open, and I turn around, expecting Raven, just as a voice cuts through the air: "Don't believe her."

The whole world closes around me, like an eyelid: For a moment, everything goes dark.

I am falling. My ears are full of rushing; I have been sucked into a tunnel, a place of pleasure and chaos. My head is about to explode.

He looks different. He is much thinner, and a scar runs from his eyebrow all the way down to his jaw. On his neck, just behind his left ear, a small tattooed number curves around the three-pronged scar that fooled me, for so long, into believing he was cured. His eyes-once a sweet, melted brown, like syrup-have hardened. Now they are stony, impenetrable.

Only his hair is the same: that auburn crown, like leaves in autumn.

Impossible. I close my eyes and reopen them: the boy from a dream, from a different lifetime. A boy brought back from the dead.

Alex.”
― Lauren Oliver, Pandemonium