High School Memories Quotes

“It was only high school after all, definitely one of the most bizarre periods in a person’s life. How anyone can come through that time well adjusted on any level is an absolute miracle.”
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

“As far as I’m concerned, high school sucked when I went, and probably sucks now. I tend to regard people who remember it as the best four years of their lives with caution and a degree of pity.”
― Stephen King, Guns

“Yes, high school...the land of drama queens and egocentric football players.”
― Hermione Daguin, Guess what? Life happened.

“Hello, Jimmy,' said an all-too-familiar voice from somewhere behind me. It was Marty. No one else at South Miami had that delightful, almost exotic English accent.

I turned around slowly until I faced her. “Hi, Marty,” I said.

She got up from one of the few chairs that had not been placed in storage and gave me a shy half-smile. “So, come to say goodbye, then?” Marty asked.

I gazed at her, committing every detail of her appearance to memory. She wore faded Levi’s blue jeans, a white and orange SOUTH MIAMI CHORUS T-shirt, white socks and an old pair of Keds sneakers. Her chestnut hair was tied into a ponytail. She wore very little makeup; a touch of mascara here, a hint of blush there, a bit of lip-gloss to make things a bit interesting. She was shockingly, heartrendingly beautiful.

My heart skipped a beat. “I couldn’t go without seeing you, you know,” I said.

She smiled. “Oh, come on; I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“It’s true,” I said. “And no, I don’t say that to all the girls.”
― Alex Diaz-Granados, Reunion: A Story: A Novella

“Do you remember what you said to me on the last day of school?” I ask.

“I said a lot of things, Jim. But that was, what? 14? 15 years ago?”

“You said that if I didn’t tell her how I felt, it would come back someday and bite me on my ass.”

“That sounds like something I would say.”

“I hate to admit it,” I say, “but you were right.”

“I was wise beyond my years,” Mark says lightly.

“At the time, I thought you were just messing with my head.”

“I was messing with your head. I was also telling you the truth.”
― Alex Diaz-Granados, Reunion: A Story: A Novella

“Before I could even think of a suitable retort – hopefully a witty one – I saw, out of the corner of my eye, someone walking with deliberate purpose from the cafeteria entrance toward our table. I turned my head in that direction, and when I recognized who this someone was, my heart leaped to my throat, and I almost forgot to breathe.

Speaking of the Devil, I thought, as I beheld the familiar presence of Martina Elizabeth Reynaud, considered by many to be one of the prettiest girls in the Class of 1983.
Even dressed as she was – denim jeans and a matching jacket, with a plaid button-down blouse, scuffed girls’ Keds sneakers, and her long chestnut hair pulled up into a simple ponytail that bobbed up and down when she walked – Marty was simply, heart-achingly gorgeous. Wherever and whenever she was in a room – even a busy cafeteria – she almost always got looks of admiration and/or envy from her fellow students. Most of the guys in our school wanted to be with her, while many of the girls wanted to be like her.

She was tall, lithe, and naturally sexy; these physical attributes drew a lot of attention to her. Most guys, including me, paid particular attention to them, mainly on the rare occasions when she wore her athletic shorts and T-shirt on the way to change in the girls' locker room after her fourth-period PE class.

She was also one of the nicest, sweetest people who went to South Miami. She almost always had a pleasant smile or a cheery 'Hello, there!' – especially early in the morning, when most of us were either grumpy or still groggy from waking up early to get to school.”
― Alex Diaz-Granados, Reunion: Coda: Book 2 of the Reunion Duology

“Is high school hard?”
“Why you asking?”
“I’m just curious,” Lay said honestly. “It seems like everyone wants to hurry up and get there, but at the same time they don’t want to go.”

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Mark Sneed
This material may be protected by copyright.”
― Mark T. Sneed, The Chase