Jaishree Urs

“Okay." Nate took a deep breath. "Now that we're all caught up on the new no-no's of the house, what do you say we find a tarp and some duct tape and MacGyver ourselves a new window in the living room? Just, you know, to keep out the wind ... and the leaves ... and any sharp-toothed woodland creatures prone to attacking people in their sleep."
Tristan raised a brow.
"What?" Nate shrugged. "Death by dragon? Awesome. Death by rabid forest squirrel? Not cool, man. Not cool."
"You're immortal, Nate," Gabriel said.
"So? That doesn't mean I want rabies." Nate shook his head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have medieval aliens to defeat.”
― Chelsea Fine, Awry

“And why is Heather wearing pink? Come on, people."
Heather rolled her eyes and disappeared back inside the tent, reappearing a minute later with a dark gray T-shirt on.
"Better?" She cocked her head at tristan.
"Yes. You've just extended your life by at least an hour.”
― Chelsea Fine, Avow

“For God's sake, don't let her watch Cinderella. What kind of example is that? A mindless twit who can't even remember where she left her damn shoe, so she has to wait for some douchebag in tights to bring it to her? Give me a frigging break!”
― Emma Chase, Tangled

“She talks like you. It’s not every day you hear a four-year-old say Prince Charming is a douchebag who’s only holding Cinderella back.”

"That’s my girl.”
― Emma Chase, Tangled