Jule

“Nobody tells you how those nights that stand out in your memory—levee sunset nights, hurricane nights, first kiss nights, homesick sleepover nights, nights when you stood at your bedroom window and looked at the lilies one porch over and thought they would stand out, singular and crystallized, in your memory forever—they aren't really anything. They're everything, and they're nothing. They make you who you are, and they happen at the same time a twenty-three-year-old a million miles away is warming up some leftovers, turning in early, switching off the lamp. They're so easy to lose.”
― Casey McQuiston, One Last Stop

“None of us know exactly who we are, and guess what? It doesn't fucking matter. God knows I don't, but I'll find my way to it. [...] Like—okay, I dated this girl who was an artist, right? And she'd do figure drawing, where she'd draw the negative space around a person first, and then fill in the person. And that's how I'm trying to look at it. Maybe I don't know what fills it in yet, but I can look at the space around where I sit in the world, what creates that shape, and I can care about what it's made of, if it's good, if it hurts anyone, it makes people happy, if it makes me happy. And that can be enough for now.”
― Casey McQuiston, One Last Stop

“This is how we reveal ourselves: these tiny flashes of discomfort, the reactions we can’t hide.”
― Christina Lauren, Autoboyography

“There’s no point to it, loving a girl who can’t touch the ground. August knows this.

But to kiss and be kissed. To be wanted. That’s a different thing from love. And maybe, maybe if she tried, they could have something. Not everything, but something.”
― Casey McQuiston, One Last Stop