Regina

“Augustus Waters was a self-aggrandizing bastard. But we forgive him. We forgive him not because he had a heart as figuratively good as his literal one sucked, or because he knew more about how to hold a cigarette than any nonsmoker in history, or because he got eighteen years when he should've gotten more.'
'Seventeen,' Gus corrected.
'I'm assuming you've got some time, you interupting bastard.
'I'm telling you,' Isaac continued, 'Augustus Waters talked so much that he'd interupt you at his own funeral. And he was pretentious: Sweet Jesus Christ, that kid never took a piss without pondering the abundant metaphorical resonances of human waste production. And he was vain: I do not believe I have ever met a more physically attractive person who was more acutely aware of his own physical attractiveness.
'But I will say this: When the scientists of the future show up at my house with robot eyes and they tell me to try them on, I will tell the scientists to screw off, because I do not want to see a world without him.'
I was kind of crying by then.”
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

“Dead end after dead end. Did you find the answers you were looking for in that book?”
“I haven’t had a chance to read it yet,” I said nonchalantly.
A half-smile tugged at Noah’s mouth. “You fell asleep, didn’t you?”
I lifted my chin. “No.”
“What page?”
“I didn’t fall asleep.”
“What page?”
Busted. “Six,”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Evolution of Mara Dyer

“I am going to become a writer for Cosmo - you don’t have to make any sense at all. Or maybe I’ll be a bloke, they don’t have to make sense either.”
― Louise Rennison, Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging

“Where are you going?”
“My God, you’re like the plague.”
“A masterfully crafted, powerfully understated, and epic parable of timeless moral resonance? Why, thank you. That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me,” he said.
“The disease, Noah. Not the book.”
“I’m ignoring that qualification.”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer