isabela

“That's what she gets, if she gets anything at all," Stevie said. "All of this starts in late May and goes on through June. What dose this suggest?"

"Morning sickness," Nate said, his eyes widening.

"Morning sickness," Stevie replied, smiling.

"You terrify me," Nate said quietly.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“What do you do when the devil turns up in your living room and offers you everything you want?”
― Maureen Johnson, The Vanishing Stair

“Oh my God,” he said. “What are you, a saint or something?” “I stole this mug,” she said. “So, no. Besides, if the school closed down, you’d have to go home and finish your book or something. I did it for you. I’m not even telling anyone else. I mean, aside from my friends. Like you.” “Are you trying to make me have an emotion?” Nate said, his eyes reddening a bit. “Because I’ve spent my whole life learning how to repress and deflect and you’re kind of ruining my thing.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“You didn’t come.”

“You didn’t call.”

She looks down at their tangled hands. “Tell me, Luc,” she says. “Was any of it real?”

“What is real to you, Adeline? Since my love counts for nothing?”

“You are not capable of love.”

He scowls, his eyes flashing emerald. “Because I am not human? Because I do not wither and die?”

“No,” she says, drawing back her hand. “You are not capable of love because you cannot understand what it is to care for someone else more than yourself. If you loved me, you would have let me go by now.”

Luc flicks his fingers. “What nonsense,” he says. “It is because I love you that I won’t. Love is hungry. Love is selfish.”
― V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue