Angela

“We'd start slow, the way we always did, because the run, and the game, could go on for awhile. Maybe even forever.
That was the thing. You just never knew. Forever was so many different things. It was always changing, it was what everything was really all about. It was twenty minutes, or a hundred years, or just this instant, or any instant I wished would last and last. But there was only one truth about forever that really mattered, and that was this: it was happening. Right then, as I ran with Wes into that bright sun, and every moment afterwards. Look, there. Now. Now. Now.”
― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

“I love the idea of the big life - the life that matters, the life that makes a difference. The life where stuff happens, where people take action. The opposite of the life where the girl can't even speak to the boy she likes; the opposite of the life where the friends aren't even good friends, and lots of days are wasted away feeling bored and kind of okay, like nothing matters much.”
― E. Lockhart, Fly on the Wall: How One Girl Saw Everything

“You're a prefect? Oh Ronnie! That's everyone in the family!"
"What are Fred and I? Next door neighbors?”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

“Do you think we're being robbed?" I whispered.
He nodded gravely, then crawled over to my closet and opened it.
"Did you want to borrow something more formal to wear for the robbery? I'm not sure I have anything in your size."
"Shh," he whispered. "Don't you at least have a tennis racket or anything?"
"You think they came here looking for a doubles partner?"
He turned quickly and gave me a look, then whipped a Wiffle bat out of the mess.
"Wow," I said. "You jock-type people really are single-minded, aren't you? Uh-oh, we're being robbed. Let's play ball!"
"It's for a weapon," Carson whispered.
"You're gonna hit them with a Wiffle bat?"
"What else you got?"
"Um...A pillow"
"Exactly" ... "Stay behind me," he whispered.
"Can I just say that I never knew this about me before, but weirdly enough this whole protective he-man thing actually turns me on."
"Josie."
"What," I asked.
"Shut Up."
I grabbed my pillow, just in case, so to speak, and tiptoed behind him around the mussed-up bed. "Maybe we should just hide in the closet."
He turned around, rolled his eyes and kissed me. "Shh," he repeated.”
― Rachel Vail, You, Maybe: The Profound Asymmetry of Love in High School