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“After arriving at Colorado in the fall of 1969, he spent so much time playing pranks (such as producing reams of printouts saying “Fuck Nixon”) that he failed a couple of his courses and”
― Walter Isaacson, Steve Jobs

“she vaguely remembered chatting with an attractive fiftyish redhead in the elevator, who had asked for her business”
― Mary Higgins Clark, Pretend You Don't See Her

“Last year I caught Mark copying Jack Connelly’s homework on the bus. He pretended like it was no big deal in front of his buddies, but when I threatened to tell his mama, Mrs. Findley, he started boohooing like a little baby. The dumbest part is that Jack Connelly is easily the least smart person in our grade. If Mark’s a troglodyte, Jack is king of the troglodytes. Mark gapes at me and shakes his head disgustedly. “Geez, Annemarie, why’d you have to bring that up? You started it.” “I was just foolin’, and if you weren’t so dense, you’d know better than to criticize a girl’s looks. It’s degrading, and it’s, well, it’s sexist.” I raise my eyebrows high and dare him to disagree. “What a load of crap. You can say whatever you want to me, and I can’t say jack to you?” Mark says, shaking his head again. “That’s dumb.” “That’s the way it goes,” I say. “And anyway, you didn’t have to rub it in about Celia. I know she’s prettier than me.” My sister Celia is the kind of girl whose hair curls just right in a ponytail. She is smaller than me, the kind of small that boys want to scoop up and hold on to real tight. I am too tall for even my daddy to scoop up anymore, much less a sixth grade boy. Boys like Celia; they go crazy”
― Jenny Han, Shug

“until one of us leaves crying. Usually it’s Mark, but this time I am afraid it will be me. Please, please don’t let it be me. “You’re the one who could”
― Jenny Han, Shug